


Homeward Bound

by thornfield_girl



Category: Justified
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Going Home, Group Sex, Homophobic Language, M/M, Multi, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:59:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornfield_girl/pseuds/thornfield_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan and Boyd have a pretty good thing going, until Raylan shoots Tommy Bucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

The day he shot Tommy Bucks, Raylan went straight to the bar from the office. He needed at least two drinks and some alone time before heading home, otherwise he was going to be a raging asshole and there would be hurt feelings and fighting, which he really didn't feel up to at the moment. 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been or how many drinks he'd finished off by the time his phone played out the opening mandolin chords of Steve Earle's "Harlan Man." He was surprised to glance up at the window and find it dark outside. 

"Hey," he mumbled into the phone. "Sorry. Must've lost track of time." His mouth was definitely not making all the right shapes for the words he was trying to say. He blinked a few times and sat up straight, trying to pull it together.

"It's almost eight-thirty, baby." Boyd's voice came softly down the line, full of concern and not a bit of reproach that Raylan could detect. "I heard what happened, it was all over the news. I figured you'd be stopping off, and that's alright. I know you need your time, but now it's time to come home. I'm gonna come get you."

"Yeah, okay," Raylan replied. "I don't think l should be driving."

Boyd gave a low chuckle and said, "Who ever said you were just a pretty face? 

"You, all the time," Raylan slurred, his face stretching into a sloppy grin, "but I know y'just messin' w'me."

"Oh lord. Order some water. See you in ten."

By the time Boyd arrived, Raylan's head was on the bar. The bartender, Luis, knew them pretty well by now. This place was just a few blocks from their place and they were in there at least a couple nights a week. They made good Cuban food and the staff was friendly. 

Raylan knew Boyd had arrived, because he heard Luis say, "Hey, man, sorry. I should have cut him off before the last one. It was a judgement call, but I blew it."

"He can fool you," Boyd laughed.

Raylan felt Boyd's hand on his shoulder, pulling on it to try to sit him up. He did, sort of, but only enough to lean back on Boyd's arm. "'M sorry, babe," he mumbled. 

Boyd smoothed a hand over his hair and sighed lightly. He signed the credit card slip that Luis brought over, then said, "Come on, let's get you up."

Raylan's head became completely weightless the second he stood, and he would have slid to the floor had it not been for Boyd grabbing him under the arm.

"Woah," Raylan said, laughing at himself. 

They made it out to the sidewalk and Raylan slung an arm around his shoulder. Boyd held him loosely around the waist and they walked to Raylan's car. "I walked, so we can drive your car home," Boyd said. 

"'Kay," Raylan said, agreeable only because he needed to concentrate on walking at the moment, which meant arguing was out of the question. 

They reached his car and Boyd reached into his pocket for the keys. 

"You gettin' fresh with me, son?" Raylan said, making his face do the grin that Boyd had once told him made him look like the the straight roommate in a gay porno. Raylan was pretty sure that was a compliment, based on the sequence of events that had followed.

"Hush," Boyd said, opening the passenger door and pushing Raylan in. He even did the hand on the head cop move. 

Raylan must have more or less passed out before Boyd got in the other side, because the next thing he knew, the car had stopped. They were parked in the little spot in the alley behind their house, against the chain link fence covered entirely in morning glory, and next to Boyd's van. 

Raylan opened his eyes, but was having a hard time making himself move. Boyd nudged him, none too gently, and said, "Let's go."

Raylan opened the door and swung his feet to the ground. The sudden movement suddenly seemed as if it had been a very bad idea, and he puked on the asphalt with almost no warning.

"Ugh," he said. He realized he might be embarrassed about that the next day, but mostly he felt relieved at the moment. He felt a lot better than he had before he did it.

Boyd snorted. "I sincerely hope you can make it inside and up the damn stairs without leaning on me, Raylan. Come on, let's get you in the shower."

They entered through the back door, which opened on the kitchen. Boyd made him strip down right there, so he could throw the clothes directly into the washer they had where the pantry probably once was. 

The shower was a somewhat sloppy occasion, with Raylan insisting that Boyd join him - in case he might lose his balance - and then proceeding to grope him the entire time. By the time they finished the shower and Raylan had brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouthwash (twice), he'd woken up considerably. 

Boyd brought him water and Advil, and told him to lie down. He turned out all the lights except the little accent lamp on the dresser, so they could only just make out each other's faces. Boyd rubbed his fingers on Raylan's scalp, massaging and scratching just a little, and it felt so amazing. He closed his eyes, which turned out to be a mistake, because all he could see then was what he'd done earlier that day.

"I crossed the line, Boyd," he said finally.

"Well," Boyd replied softly, "you crossed _a_ line. Not _the_ line. Not my line. You killed someone, didn't deserve to keep drawing air. That fucking psycho, who hurt people just for the pure pleasure of doing so, he needed to go, baby."

"I wasn't a lawman in that restaurant today."

"No indeed," Boyd said, his soft smile turning slightly sharper. "You were Raylan Givens."

"And I guess you like that, huh?" Raylan was frowning slightly, trying to work out how he felt about that. 

"I like Raylan Givens very much. In fact, I love the man. I don't give a shit if he's got his lawman hat or his head lamp on and, after what you saw that freak do in Nicaragua, after what you went through, you were justified. Maybe the law will agree with that assessment and maybe not, but in my eyes you're good to fuckin' go."

Raylan stared at Boyd's face, the most familiar and loved of all faces. He knew he must have had a sappy look on his face, because Boyd smirked and said, "What's on your mind, beautiful?" 

"I was just thinking, I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. And if I could remember such a time, I wouldn't care to dwell on it."

"You're so drunk, baby," Boyd said, smiling down at him.

"Yeah. Don't mean it ain't true, only that I'm gonna be mortified if I remember saying it tomorrow."

Boyd kissed his forehead and said, "Go to sleep. I'm gonna stay up a bit, but I won't be too late."

Something pricked at Raylan's memory, and he said, "You got that thing this weekend."

"The show in Jacksonville. Yeah, I gotta leave first thing in the morning. But I'll cancel if you want me to."

"Boyd, if you cancel, that many more Americans will go without their most precious rights upheld. No, you have to go, for the good of the country."

"Never too drunk to mock me, though, are you?" Boyd laughed. 

"Trying to make you forget the thing I said before. Is it working?"

"Go to sleep," Boyd said again, patting his leg before walking over to turn off the little lamp. Raylan did not, in fact, need much encouragement in that area.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan gets ready for his hearing, Boyd goes out of town, and some back story on the boys.

Raylan woke about ten minutes before the alarm, and he was alone in bed. He could smell coffee brewing and hear Boyd moving around in the kitchen, so he closed his eyes again and waited. 

It wasn't like Boyd always brought him coffee in bed - in fact, hardly ever except on his birthday and occasionally on the weekends, about as often as Raylan did it for him. Well, maybe a little bit more often. They'd been together now for more than fifteen years, though, and they'd mostly figured out how to keep things fair. 

Not that they didn't fight, of course. Stupid ones, for the most part, more often than not ending up in a minor physical altercation leading to rough sex. There wasn't much of an incentive to try to stop those. 

There had been a big one about four years prior, though, which had culminated in Boyd moving out for three months. Raylan's temper had always been a constantly simmering and sometimes explosive thing, and Boyd was good at negotiating that, but things had changed shortly after the transfer to Miami. 

Raylan had been stressed about the new job, and dealing with having to come out all over again to a new set of coworkers. It was always tricky with people in law enforcement, difficult to know what the reaction would be. 

He'd waited a little too long, long enough to make it awkward. Long enough to establish a flirtatious relationship with the ridiculously sexy Karen Sisco, which would have been fine if she'd already known about Boyd. Boyd didn't care if he flirted, and under certain circumstances (circumstances where he could watch, or join in) he was fine with more than that. And Raylan afforded him the same courtesy. But of course, honesty had to be at the beginning of anything like that, and Raylan had fucked that up. He hadn't slept with her, but his behavior hadn't exactly been in bounds, either.

They'd been fighting for weeks, Raylan constantly on edge from guilt and stress. They'd had a blow up one night and spent most of the evening talking, eventually achieving a tenuous peace. This had been new to both of them. Their relationship had always been easy, and now it was suddenly, bewilderingly hard. 

Boyd had come down to the courthouse the following day when Raylan was supposed to be getting off work, and discovered him in the hallway with Karen leaning into him. 

"Hey, Raylan," he said, strolling up as Raylan pushed her back abruptly. 

"Boyd, hey. What are you doing here?" Guilt made his voice defensive, and he'd seen Boyd flinch slightly. 

"Thought I'd take you out to dinner," he said, his eyes flicking over to Karen. 

"Oh, uh," Raylan said, his eyes darting around. "Yeah. Sounds good. Hey, this is Karen Sisco, she works in my office. Karen, this is Boyd Crowder."

Boyd shook her hand and smiled at her, and Raylan's stomach was a mess. He hadn't said it, and Boyd must have noticed. He took a deep breath and said, "Uh, my boyfriend."

Boyd had looked at him sharply, obviously shocked that Raylan hadn't mentioned him yet. That had never happened at any of his other postings. 

"Oh," Karen had said faintly. "Well, nice to meet you, Boyd. Raylan, I'm going to finish the paperwork on that thing." She gave a little wave and walked back into the office.

They'd left the courthouse then and gone home. There had been no yelling, no fighting, and definitely no sex. Boyd had packed a bag and called one of their friends, then told Raylan not to call him for a few weeks, and then only if he was ready to make some changes. 

Raylan had avoided Karen as much as possible for the next few days, and pretty much everyone else at work as well. He'd started drinking every day after work, hardly eating, and after about a week of that, Dan had called him into his office. 

"Close the door," he said. Raylan did, then sat down. "What's your problem, Givens? You're a mess."

"Yeah. Sorry. Personal shit, Dan, I'll pull it together."

"Your boyfriend leave you or something?" Raylan just stared at him with his mouth hanging open until he added, "You thought I didn't know? You think I'm stupid enough not to look into the lives of deputies coming into my office?"

Raylan rubbed his face and sighed. "Didn't occur to me. And yeah, he moved out. Temporarily. We're gonna work it out."

Dan snorted. "You're not working anything out by crawling into a bottle and neglecting your personal hygiene."

Raylan nodded. "Okay. Got it. I'll take care of it."

"See that you do," Dan did, then dismissed him. 

Raylan had spent the rest of the week having conversations with everyone in the office where he casually mentioned Boyd. He wasn't sure how to talk to Karen about it, so he waited until she approached him. 

"So when is it my turn to get the 'oh by the way my boyfriend' talk?"

Raylan grinned a little sheepishly and said, "I think you already got that last week. Sorry about that, by the way. Super awkward."

"Awkward?" Karen laughed. "I think maybe a little more than that, if your self-destructive binge this week is any indication."

"That wasn't about you. He ain't the possessive type. He was just upset because...well, mainly because I've been acting like the world's biggest asshole for the past six months, and then he had to come here and find out in the shittiest possible way that I haven't been honest about him, or me, or anything, the whole time I've been here."

She nodded slowly. "Well, I hope you work it out. You're obviously a mess without him."

"A total wreck," Raylan agreed ruefully. 

He'd given Boyd a month before calling him, and Boyd had said he needed more time before moving back. They started talking on the phone every day, though, and going out for dinner once a week. It was pretty cool, actually, since they'd never actually dated in that way in the beginning. Still, he'd been so relieved when Boyd finally moved back in, and he was pretty sure Boyd had felt the same way. 

Ever since then they'd both been more careful of each other, more likely to check in if there were problems of any kind. The experience had pretty much scared the shit out of both of them. After Nicaragua, Boyd had become even more solicitous, sometimes more so than Raylan preferred.

Boyd came in with two coffees and set one down next to Raylan. "Thanks, babe," Raylan said, pulling himself into a sitting position with his pillow behind him. "I'm sorry about last night."

Boyd shrugged and smiled at him. "That's alright, it was understandable. Anyway, you were sweet. At least, after you puked."

"I don't know what's gonna happen, Boyd. I might lose my job."

"Let's find out before we start worrying." He got a slightly evil grin on his face and said, "You can always come work with me. People always need guns."

Raylan fixed him with a severe look and said, "The day I get involved in a business that puts assault weapons into the hands of lunatics and white supremacists, that'll be the day you should leave me, Boyd, because I will have gone 'round the damn bend."

"I'd prefer to think of it as coming to your senses, but I don't really want to attempt a Constitutional argument this early in the morning." He leaned over and kissed Raylan softly, but let his lips linger for awhile. "You still taste faintly of vomit, but I can live with that. You want to make a little time before I take off?"

Raylan set down his coffee cup and pulled Boyd on top of him. He needed this even more than he'd needed the coffee or the painkillers Boyd had set beside his cup. He hadn't liked thinking about The Bad Time, as he always called it in his mind, and he needed to soak Boyd in a little if he was going to be gone for days. Now he dearly wished he hadn't wasted so much time drinking the night before. Bourbon never made him feel better than Boyd could. 

They made love and took their time, ignoring the fact that Raylan was certainly going to be late for work. They showered together after, Raylan leaning up against Boyd's back while he soaped it up for him. In the early days, that would have surely led to another round, but age and familiarity had taken the edge off. Boyd did turn around and kiss him, though, and they clung together for a minute or so before getting out. 

Raylan left the house before Boyd did, kissing him quickly on the cheek on the way out. He didn't much like it when Boyd was away, but he loved it so much when he got back that it almost made it worth it. 

He was currently on desk duty, pending an investigation into the events of the day before, and he planned to spend the day catching up with paperwork he'd neglected for far too long. He thought he might also go online and buy Boyd that Walt Whitman biography they'd heard about on Fresh Air, which he'd probably be surprised Raylan had remembered, and the new Stephen King for himself. 

According to Dan, he should be preparing his testimony for the hearing, but really he didn't see what needed preparing. The man had pulled on him. He'd pulled first. It was justified, simple as that. Dan might have assumed there was more to it, and Boyd certainly knew there was, but as far as the law was concerned, Raylan was defending himself. 

Dan had stressed, very strongly, that Raylan shouldn't bring up the fact that he'd given him twenty-four hours to leave town. Apparently they weren't allowed to do that anymore. Who knew.

Boyd came back on the following Monday, bearing the gift of the new Stephen King novel. Raylan grinned and kissed him. "You didn't pick up that Whitman bio too, did you?" he asked. 

Boyd gave him a funny look and said, "No, but I checked and they didn't have it in stock. Why?"

Raylan smiled and said, "No reason. I'm glad you're back, babe. Want to go out for dinner?"

"Raylan, I been eating on the road all weekend. I want to stay in and fuck and then eat something you cook for me. Which I realize basically means eggs, and I'm fine with that."

"I can make grilled cheese too," Raylan said, grinning.

"Whatever. As long as I get to fuck you first, I don't honestly give a shit what I eat."

"You're gonna eat my cock," Raylan said.

"Very witty, Raylan. Subtle. Oscar Wilde had nothing on you."

Raylan grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him back to the bedroom. "Please, he'd have told you the same thing. Maybe it would've sounded a little nicer, is all."

They fucked and laid around in bed for a long time after, talking about the past four days. Boyd had done well at the Jacksonville gun show. He was a natural born salesman, and especially skilled at whipping people into a fury, when it benefitted him to do so. Raylan had always been half-fascinated, half-horrified by it. 

He'd gone along to one of those shows, soon after Boyd had started doing it, and had been profoundly disturbed by his comfort level in dealing with the militia and neo-Nazi types who came through. 

"What do you think they'd do if I kissed you right now?" he'd asked, angry and keyed up from having to hear so much ugly shit all day.

Boyd had looked at him with utter calm and replied, "I don't know, Raylan, but if you want to find out, go right ahead."

Raylan hadn't, because it hadn't been that long since he'd been out in his own life, and it still felt like a difficult thing to him. And because he was afraid of being responsible for fucking things up for Boyd. And because if they got assaulted by a gang of racist survivalists, he'd end up looking weak to people in the job. He hadn't done it because he'd been too afraid. 

That was twelve years ago, and that decision still bothered him. He hadn't been back to one since, but he'd more or less made peace with what Boyd did for a living. He made good money, and he stayed within the boundaries of the law, such as it was. 

Raylan talked a little about what he and Dan had discussed, regarding his hearing. It was coming up on Wednesday, and that couldn't arrive soon enough, in his opinion. He hated staying put in the office all damn day. It made him feel like a glorified secretary.

"I still can't believe you gave the man twenty-four hours," Boyd laughed. "That's so you. Raylan, the lost Earp brother."

Raylan just sighed and pushed his face into Boyd's neck. He didn't mind being made fun of, and he'd take whatever was coming to him, after the goddamn hearing was over. Right now it was making him tense. Boyd picked up on that easily and stopped talking, stroked his hair and kissed him on the top of his head instead.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan has his hearing and they both start to say goodbye to Miami.

The hearing was early on Wednesday, and Raylan answered all the questions easily. His motivation didn't matter, the law was on his side. And in the back of his mind, he could hear Boyd saying _you were justified_ , and that was enough to calm any nerves he might have had. 

"I thought that went well," Raylan told Dan when it was over, walking back to the car.

"You thought that went well? I had a call this morning from the director, before that the director got a call from the AG. Let me put it to you this way, the weather forecast is for a shit load of shit raining down on this office from Washington. I'm gonna re-assign you."

"Prison transport," Raylan replied grimly. That sucked, but it wouldn't last forever.

"No, I'm getting you out of dodge. They need man power in the eastern district of Kentucky. I spoke to the Chief of the district, Art Mullen, says you guys taught firearms together at Glynco."

Raylan stopped in his tracks and stared. "Dan, I can't. I'm from eastern Kentucky, I can't go back. There's no way."

"Well, then we have a problem, because you don't wanna go back to Kentucky and you cannot under any circumstances stay here. Got any other skills?"

"Dan," Raylan started, then lowered his face into his hands for a second. "This ain't about me not wanting to go there. Me and Boyd both come from there. From Harlan, if you know anything about that place."

"Uh...a little. I promise you won't have to bust up any miners' strikes." Dan was laughing at him. "Listen Raylan, what's the problem? So what, you grew up there?"

Raylan pressed his mouth into a thin line and fixed him with a look. He didn't want to explain why, not to Dan. 

"I always admired you, Raylan, did you know that? Being out the way you are in a job like this, even ten, fifteen years ago? That's damn brave. How could you be so brave about that but can't handle-"

"It ain't about that. Or-" Raylan sighed and leaned against the car. "It is, a little, but this is not a normal situation. This ain't, my parents are religious and think I'm going to hell. It ain't...ah, fuck it. Fuck it. Listen, I'm gonna take off early, you don't mind. I gotta...Boyd's gonna flip his shit, Dan. He may just kill me."

"Well, God knows he has the ammunition."

Raylan called the landline at their house first, out of long-ingrained habit, but got no answer. Boyd picked up the call to his cell on the first ring, and Raylan could hear a lot of chatter in the background. 

"Hey, Boyd. Where you at?"

"Garden center," Boyd said. "Lauren texted me that some new trees came in, and you know how we been talking about putting one in that ugly space near the shed. Also, she said Kevin was talking about inviting us over, it's been awhile, so I was just now looking at my calendar. Hang on." He heard the phone being moved away from his face and some unintelligible voices, then he came back on. "Is next Friday alright with you, baby? They're gonna make food and get us drunk and try to get us in bed." 

Raylan heard their friend's laughter in the background and he almost groaned. They had friends here, not a million, but good ones. He liked the people he worked with. They'd bought their house only a year earlier, and Boyd had been so into landscaping the property. This was going to suck so bad. 

"Yeah, sure, but maybe hold off on that tree. I need to talk to you about something, and I need to do it right away. I need you to come home now, alright? I'm on my way there."

"Shit, did the hearing go bad? What- Raylan, your tone is scaring me a little."

Raylan laughed, trying for rueful, but he could hear the tinge of hysteria in there with his own ears. No way Boyd didn't. "Just come home. Say hey to Lauren for me." He hung up, because he needed to concentrate on his driving at the moment and didn't want to answer any more questions, else he was going to spill everything over the phone. 

At home, Raylan pulled out a bottle of the best bourbon they had, E.H. Taylor small batch, still more than half full after getting it for Christmas from a regular customer of Boyd's. They only brought it out for special and semi-special occasions, like birthdays, or small celebrations like Raylan getting a raise, or the time a friend they'd had in Salt Lake came to stay for a weekend. Even then, they were always sparing with it, even though they certainly could have replaced it without any problem. It was special because they'd made it that way, but now Raylan thought they might finish it off in a sitting. He set two glasses on the table and waited.

Boyd got home five minutes later and eyed the liquor on the table. "Raylan, it ain't even noon. Is there something you really feel we need to celebrate, just now?"

Raylan didn't answer until he'd poured them each a double. "It's a celebration, in a sense," he said, lifting his glass. "I'm celebrating how far you and me have come since we both left Harlan twenty years ago. That's something to celebrate, right? Something to be proud of?"

Boyd's brows drew together, and he warily picked up his glass. "Yeah, baby," he said softly. "It is. I'll drink to that anytime." He clinked the tumbler lightly against Raylan's and took a sip. "Now. Please tell me what's going on. I can't think of a thing it could be that I can't roll with, and I figure you understand that, so I know this must be bad. So get it over with, Raylan."

Raylan felt forlorn. He hated being the one to do this to Boyd. It was all his fault. He nodded and closed his eyes, then looked up and met Boyd's. "They're transferring me."

Boyd let out a sigh of relief. "Is that all? We knew that was gonna happen eventually, it's okay. We've done it before, we-"

"To Kentucky." Boyd shut his mouth and stared. "Eastern Kentucky. Lexington." 

"Oh, shit," was all Boyd said. He opened his mouth as if to say more, then closed it and looked at him helplessly.

"I know," Raylan said.

"Quit, Raylan. Just quit. You can do something else. Corporate security, private detective, fuckin' pizza delivery. Do nothing, for all I care, we can adopt a half dozen dogs to keep you company and I'll support us. Just do not take this fucking post. _Please._ "

"Boyd-"

"Raylan, I can't. I cannot entertain this notion. I do not want to be back in Kentucky. Not on my own, not with you, not at all. I don't care it's Lexington, we don't fucking belong anywhere near there." He downed the rest of his drink in one swallow and set down his glass. Raylan refilled it for him.

As if he hadn't just said what he'd just said, Boyd took a breath and took Raylan's hand. "Okay. Okay. It's gonna be alright. It'll be fine, Raylan."

"I'll quit if you really think I should, Boyd." Raylan was pretty sure he meant it, but almost as sure that Boyd wouldn't insist. He wasn't even certain he didn't want him to. 

"I do think you should, but I won't ask you to," Boyd said. 

"Maybe I want to," Raylan whispered. 

Boyd huffed softly. "No you don't. But I get it. You're scared shitless. Me too. Why should we be, though? We're grown men, Raylan. Who gives a shit who our daddies are? Or what they might think of us?"

Raylan just looked at him, because Boyd knew damn well why. But it was going to be what it was going to be, and they were doing this, apparently. 

They didn't finish off the bottle, as it turned out. They had a second double each, then Boyd put the bottle away and made Raylan come to the beach with him. They swam in the ocean, then laid on towels, talking, until the sun started to set. They ate ceviche and drank tequila outdoors at a place along the beach, in bare feet, surrounded by beautiful people. After dinner, they sat in the dunes and kissed for a long time. Raylan had never made use of all Miami had to offer, but now he realized he was going to miss it a great deal. 

They spent the rest of the week and the following one packing. They'd only been in the house for a year, and were still in the process of buying furniture for it, so they donated most of what they had, keeping only the living room set and the new bed they'd purchased recently. Boyd arranged for a storage place in Lexington, and Raylan found a cheap extended-stay motel for until they found a place. 

Boyd had suggested they find an apartment with a short-term lease instead, but Raylan couldn't bring himself to commit even to a six-month deal. He hoped he could figure out a way to get transferred quickly. Art Mullen was a friend, or had been, maybe he'd be understanding and see what he could do.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a farewell dinner with some friends.

On the Friday before they left, they went to dinner at Lauren and Kevin's house, as promised. Raylan had been half-dreading the evening all week. It wasn't that he didn't like them; he did, and they always had a good time.

They'd met Lauren just after they'd bought the house, at the nursery the couple owned. They hadn't really spoken to her other than to ask for plant recommendations, until Boyd went by himself one weekend and they struck up a conversation. 

Boyd had been flirting hard, pouring it on as he sometimes did just for fun. He'd told Raylan he'd never had any intention of trying to bring her home, because he knew she was married - she'd mentioned it - but she was cute, and she'd blushed at something he'd said, and he wanted to see if he could make her do it again.

She'd asked him if his boyfriend didn't mind him talking to women like that, and Boyd had told her that in fact he encouraged it from time to time. In reality, neither of them had taken any initiative in that area since The Bad Time, but it wasn't as if they'd made some kind of rule. They'd just backed off of it for the time being, by mutual unspoken agreement. 

She had blushed very hard at that point, then sort of stammered out the fact that her husband had told her awhile back that he was bisexual, but that he'd never been with a man. He wanted to, but had been nervous about trying anything. He didn't want to hook up with random guys from the internet, but neither of them felt comfortable with him trying to date anyone. 

Boyd had listened and nodded, then he'd given her their phone number. Raylan had been pretty excited when Boyd told him about it. It had been a long time, and they both liked the idea of another couple. Besides, the fact that it was this guy's first time was pretty hot. It had, in fact, turned out to be incredibly hot and a lot of fun, and the gratitude they'd gotten from both Kevin and Lauren had been sweet, albeit unnecessary. 

Since then, they'd gotten together with them for drinks and meals, and gone to a Christmas party at their house. They'd all slept together a handful of times, and it was pretty much a perfect arrangement for all of them. Raylan knew they would be unhappy about the transfer, and he was afraid the dinner was going to be a glum and depressing affair. And he felt guilty as hell already because of Boyd, so the thought of seeing more people he was letting down wasn't at the top of his list of preferred activities. 

The evening started out with a strange, almost celebratory air. The couple was obviously trying to be supportive, as if this were a positive career move. As if it was by choice. 

"So, wow, Kentucky!" Lauren said, handing each of them a drink. "Will you be close to where you grew up?" 

This was said in such a bright, inquisitive way that Raylan almost laughed. It was probably a good thing he didn't, though, because it wouldn't have been a pretty sound. He glanced over at Boyd, who appeared to be making a serious effort to maintain a pleasantly neutral expression. 

"Not real close," Raylan said. "Couple hours."

"Oh, well," she said, "that's not too far. Are your parents still around?"

"Uh," he said, giving her a crooked smile that he was fairly sure had an edge to it. "Our daddies are." He felt Boyd's sharp glance. 

Lauren frowned. "So, I take it you guys aren't all that thrilled about moving back there?"

Raylan just looked at her, unable to express just how much he was not thrilled about it. Boyd said, "We left there for a reason. For reasons, actually. We were kind of hoping we'd never have to go back. Hell," he said, "Raylan didn't even go back for his mama's funeral."

Raylan looked at him then, hardly believing he'd bring such a thing up. Boyd looked back in a slightly challenging way. 

Kevin had been sort of staring at them during the last exchange, and then he laughed. Raylan and Boyd turned towards him and, in unison, raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Wow, you guys sort of looked like twins for a second," he said, laughing some more.

"You got something to say, man?" Boyd asked. 

Kevin shrugged. "It's just, I thought you guys had everything figured out. You always seemed so comfortable and like, sure of who you are. But you're scared of your families? That's...kind of amazing."

"We're not scared," Raylan said, then heard Boyd mutter under his breath, _Speak for yourself._

"We're not afraid of what our families might think of us. They-" 

"Raylan, don't," Boyd cut in. "We have reasons beyond that, yeah, but that doesn't mean that's not there as well." He looked straight at Kevin. "This shit is easy when it's just people you've chosen to have in your life. It's easy to be honest about yourself before you care about someone. Think about how hard it was to tell her." He gestured at Lauren. "That was pretty goddamn brave, you know. A lot of women would've left you."

Kevin smiled and grasped his wife's hand where it lay on the table. "I wanted to keep her in my life, and I was scared I would lose her. So of course that was hard. But you don't even see your families now, so where's the risk? You'd rather avoid them than take a chance? Maybe they'd surprise you."

It was Raylan's turn to laugh. "Neither one of those miserable old bastards ever managed to do that," he said. "They're both predictable, in their own fucked up ways. But personally, I don't give a shit, I was being honest. I ain't afraid of that. Boyd still harbors family feeling, much as he might wish he didn't, so he's got more to lose than me. My fears of being back in Kentucky are not so much that I won't be accepted back into the fold, but that I'll get pulled back into shit that I don't want any parts of. That we both will. That, and my daddy is a terrible person and I never want to see his face again."

"Wow," Lauren said, dismayed. "I'm sorry you have to do this. And you know...we weren't really happy for you anyway. We were mad you're leaving. We're not going to meet anyone else like you guys."

"You'll figure it out," Raylan said. "Now you know what you're doing." He winked at Kevin. "How long until dinner, anyway?"

Kevin blushed faintly and said, "Any time, really. We just have to put the steaks on, everything else is cold. You hungry now?"

Boyd grinned big and said, "I believe my colleague was suggesting that we might delay the event in favor of some other activities."

"You just want us to stop asking you things," Kevin accused, laughing. 

Raylan stretched out a leg and rubbed Kevin's calf with his foot. "Maybe so," he replied. "Will that work?" 

Boyd got Lauren to start with, since he'd been talking all goddamn morning about how much he was looking forward to eating pussy. Apparently he was some kind of master, because Raylan had never gotten the kind of reactions he'd seen Boyd receive. That was okay with Raylan, because that might mean he'd get to fuck her later, and that was what _he_ was looking forward to. Eating pussy was all well and good, but Raylan had always seen it more as a means to an end. Maybe that was why Boyd was better at it.

Raylan made out with Kevin while that was happening, and that was pretty nice too. Even though he was a guy, it still felt way different from Boyd. Kevin was smaller, short and slim, with light brown hair and eyes almost the color of grass. He was 34, but looked much younger, and he had an almost delicate way about him. Not exactly feminine, but very boyish, and he was particular about his grooming. Raylan hated, with a passion, the term "metrosexual," but he thought if it applied to anyone, it was Kevin.

Lauren had told them once that all her friends had wondered if he was gay, and she was afraid for them to find out he was bi because they'd gossip about how he was going to end up leaving her for a man and think, if not actually say, "I told you so." Personally, Raylan didn't think that would happen, as they seemed pretty into each other. And anyway, everyone always assumed Raylan was straight, and look how that had turned out. People made all kinds of stupid assumptions. 

Kevin moved down to suck his dick, which is something he'd gotten much better at since the first time, and Raylan reached over to fondle Lauren's breast. It was small but lovely, and her nipple poked sharply at his palm. When he felt her start to shake and buck up into Boyd's mouth, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and cast his mind around for distractions. 

He grabbed a handful of Kevin's hair and pulled him off, then looked over to see what was happening next to them. Boyd was sitting up, wiping his face off, and Kevin reached over into the nightstand for a condom. 

"Here," he said, handing it to Raylan with a grin. "I know what you were waiting for."

Raylan kissed him, then switched sides with Boyd. Lauren rolled over onto all fours and stared at him over her shoulder. "Don't wait too long," she said, her voice lower and softer than usual. He groaned and ripped open the rubber , then slid into her, all warm and wet and easy after Boyd's expert attentions. It was the ease that always struck him when it had been awhile since he'd fucked a woman. Not that he minded a little work, but it was nice not to have to sometimes.

She liked it hard after she'd already come once or twice. The first time they'd allowed this, maybe the third time they'd all been together, he'd been careful with her, gentle, and she'd gotten pissed at him and growled at him to _actually fuck me, please,_ and he'd gotten the message pretty quick. Boyd had laughed at him that time. 

This time, he was afraid to go too hard because he was afraid he'd come in about two seconds. She was pushing back on him, and then he glanced over to see what Boyd and Kevin were up to, which was a mistake. Kevin had Boyd pressed back against the headboard and was fucking his mouth, eyes wide and far away. 

When Boyd made a muffled grunt and grabbed his own cock, Raylan pretty much lost it. He wrapped an arm around Lauren and massaged her to another orgasm (he was pretty sure, anyway) as he pounded into her, coming at almost the same time as he heard Kevin cry out. 

After Raylan pulled out and went to get rid of the rubber, Lauren reached for Kevin, who slid over and cuddled up to her. 

"Hey, man," Boyd said, "don't leave me hangin'."

Kevin looked over apologetically and started to pull away, but Lauren said, "Let me." Raylan pulled himself up next to Boyd against the headboard (the name of which suddenly striking him as funny) and nudged his cheek. Boyd slid strong, sure fingers into his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. Raylan felt it when he came, his shudder shaking both of them, and his hot breath blowing across his ear as he sunk his face into Raylan's neck. 

No one spoke for a few minutes. Lauren had moved back over to lie next to Kevin, and Boyd had slumped against Raylan's shoulder and closed his eyes. Finally, Raylan yawned and stretched, and said, "Were there actual steaks on offer this evening, or was that just a ploy to get into our pants?"

Kevin let out a soft laugh and slowly got up. “I’ll start the grill,” he said, pulling his clothes back on, then picking up Lauren’s from the floor and handing them to her. 

“Aw, do you have to?” Boyd asked, grinning at Lauren. “I was thinking maybe you could just walk around naked the rest of the night. Ain’t a view we get to see all that often.”

She laughed and said, “Well, that’s what the computer is for, Boyd. And...did you just say ‘ain’t’?”

Raylan laughed. “I think Boyd’s just gettin’ himself in the Kentucky spirit. You know, we ain’t city folk,” he said, laying it on thick. It was sort of funny, though. Boyd was more in the habit of being careful of his grammar than Raylan was, around other people. Raylan found it helped, sometimes, in his line of work. 

Lauren laughed at him and said, “Maybe one of you could help me get drinks and bring stuff out to the patio."

Boyd went into the kitchen with her, and Raylan wandered out to where the grill was set up. Kevin was laying the meat on it carefully, looking down with a pensive expression on his face. 

“Hey,” Raylan said as he walked up. “You alright?”

Kevin shrugged. “Sure. I’m a little bummed about you guys leaving, that’s all. This was so easy and like...safe. Now I feel like...like I don’t know what’s going to happen.” He was still looking down at the grill, busy repositioning the steaks unnecessarily. 

Raylan scowled, then realized he was making that face and rubbed a hand across it to try to soften it. Boyd should be the one talking to him about this, he’d know better what to say. “I’m not entirely sure what you’re afraid of, but I hope you’re talking to her about this. Because that’s the only way you’re gonna be able to figure it out. You think, what, you’re gonna go off the rails and start sucking off guys in airport bathrooms? Or that you’ll want to leave her?”

“I don’t want to leave her,” Kevin said quietly. “I’m just worried that if we can’t find an arrangement that works for both of us, it’s going to fuck things up. I know it’s not fair to put this on you. It’s not your responsibility to make sure my needs are met so I can stay in my marriage. That’s bullshit, I know it. But I thought- maybe you might be able to help me out with this, because you and Boyd. I mean, how did you talk to each other about that stuff? Weren’t either of you afraid it would mess up your relationship if you brought other people in? How did you even bring it up?”

Raylan twisted up his shoulders in an uncomfortable shrug. He really didn’t like talking about this sort of thing. “It wasn’t like that with me and Boyd. We were just kids when we started, and it was always me and him. Well, not-” He sighed. That had all been so long ago now that he hardly remembered how it had been. “It was how we started. It started with a girl.”  
"Really?" Kevin's eyebrows shot up, and Raylan was about to explain when he saw Boyd and Lauren at the door, arms laden with containers and plates. 

"Yeah, really. We needed a little help." He smiled. "Everyone needs a little help now and then. Look, your problem is you're still trying to be one thing to yourself, something else to the world. If you can't be honest, then everything feels like a dirty secret. And if it's a secret, who knows how many opportunities you might lose out on?"

Kevin's face closed up a little, like that was the advice he'd known he would get, but that he had a million reasons he couldn't take it. "I don't want to do that to-"

"And don't blame you being chicken on her. You put that on her, she'll end up hating you for it. She doesn't want that, man. She'd be happy to get the chance to tell her friends to shut the fuck up."

"Okay."

"Okay? Okay, I'm gonna make a change, or okay, Raylan, you can shut up now?"

"Okay, I'll give it some thought. I know you're right, it's just..." He sighed and opened the grill to flip the steaks. 

"Hard. I know it is. I might not have done it for a long time, but for Boyd forcing the issue."

Just then, Lauren came over with two glasses of sangria for them. "Almost ready?" she asked. 

Kevin took the drink from her and said, "Yep, just about." She started to walk away, but he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. When he let her go, she patted his cheek and smiled at him, then went over to sit at the table. 

He looked at Raylan helplessly. "I really love her. I'm so scared to ruin it."

"Well, you definitely will, if that's the approach you're taking. Trying not to ruin something ain't the way to keep it alive. Me and Boyd been together more than 15 years, and I say that from experience."

They stayed until dinner was over and the sangria was gone. On the way home, they were both quiet, and Raylan was thinking of the conversation he'd had with Kevin. It had turned his mind to the past, thinking about the early days with Boyd. 

Very early on, when they were still working in the mine, he hadn't even known. Not really, not with any understanding. Not until the very end. All he'd known was that he wanted to be around Boyd, to such a degree as he'd never experienced with a friend before. He was drawn to him. He would have felt weird about that - in fact, sometimes he did - but Boyd seemed to feel the same way. They spent a lot of time together outside of work. 

They both had plans to get out of Harlan. Raylan had school, he had the promise of Helen's money. Boyd had the armed forces. He started thinking about how much he was going to miss Boyd, and wondering why he should feel that way. Really, why? He was a friend, but Raylan wasn't old enough at that time to understand how rare a true friend is. 

"You're quiet," Boyd said, startling him. "What you thinking about?"

Raylan smiled softly and closed his eyes as he tilted his head back. He felt warm and relaxed from the sex and the wine. "The old days," he replied. "Back home."

Boyd smiled and reached over to put a hand on his neck. "Oh, those days. What about them?"

"Just thinking about how clueless I was. How I didn't get it at all, why I wanted to be around you all the time."

"That's alright, baby. I got it, but it scared the shit out of me. End result was the same." Boyd rubbed his thumb into his neck, and he felt like he'd be purring if he could. Boyd had such good hands. "Will you tell me about when you finally figured it out? I love that story."

"You usually want to hear that during sex," Raylan said, peering over at him curiously.

"Yeah, well, I want to hear it now. I forgot how it goes."

"Okay," Raylan snorted, then thought for a moment about how to start. "That night that we went to the batting cage, I was in some kinda zone, hitting everything. Probably because I was there just for fun, for once, not 'cause I was pissed about something. I remember, you were like, cheering for me. You were laughing at me, of course, but you were whistling and clapping too."

"Mmm," Boyd murmured, "you were a sight to see on the baseball field, Raylan. I used to admire you from afar at games, you know."

"I do know that, now," Raylan said. "Back then I would've said you were full of shit, you'd told me that."

"'Cause I didn't speak with a lisp and talk about musicals," Boyd said, grinning.

"Something like that," Raylan replied with a nod. "Anyways. You dropped me off home after, and I went to bed. I was thinking about the night, not really anything in particular, and how I really liked that you were, you know. Clapping and shit. And I knew that was weird of me, maybe kinda pathetic, but I couldn't help it."

Boyd's hand moved down Raylan's arm, and he slid their fingers together, pulling them both onto his thigh. "Then what?" he asked.

"You know the story as well as I do. Why don't you tell me?"

Boyd gripped his fingers tightly, then said, "Alright. Then, you started touching yourself. You started stroking your cock."

"That's right," Raylan said, nodding. "Not really jerking off, though. Absently, like. And I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, not trying to get off. I was thinking about you. About me and you, and how I liked us being friends. And then after awhile, I realized I was pretty turned on, so I started trying to think of sexy things to make me come."

"Naked ladies and the like," Boyd said, "obviously."

"Obviously. Because I liked naked ladies, you know."

"Indeed," Boyd said, "that's a common condition."

"But I couldn't settle on one. I couldn't find anything that worked for me, and then it was like something clicked in my brain. I thought, well shit. Maybe I should just go back to thinking about what I was thinking of when my dick got hard in the first place."

"Me," Boyd said, dragging their hands into his crotch. Raylan was not particularly surprised to find him hard. He hadn't told this story in years, but he knew Boyd loved it. The first time he'd told him about it, Boyd had let Raylan fuck him for the first time. Of course, that was nearly fifteen years ago now, and they'd just had sex a couple hours before. 

"Yes, you." Raylan grinned and pushed his hand, still entwined with Boyd's, into Boyd's cock, grinding down on it. Boyd blew out a breath through pursed lips. "I thought about you that night, and then you and me swimming together, like we used to do."

"Naked," Boyd whispered.

"Naked," Raylan agreed. "And down in the black, especially. Not even really being able to see you, your face anyway, but knowing you were there, feeling you next to me."

"And you jerked of like that, thinking about me," Boyd said. He took his hand away from Raylan's and unzipped his jeans.

Raylan quirked an eyebrow in his direction. "What, do you want road head or something? You'll have to take a detour, or we'll be home in five minutes."

"I can wait." 

Raylan finished up his story. "Yeah, I jerked off over you. At the end, I imagined you holding me down while I struggled to get up, and you wouldn't let me up 'till I came."

"Jesus Christ," Boyd groaned. "That kills me every time."

Boyd pulled the car into the spot behind the house, and as soon as they had gotten inside the gate of their little yard, he was pressing up against Raylan and unbuttoning his pants.

"Damn, son, hold up," Raylan laughed. 

"Don't want to," Boyd muttered, his lips all over Raylan's face. "I still want you like I did back then, Raylan. Do you?"

"No," Raylan said sincerely, palming his cheek and looking at him. "Much more than that. And much better than that. But we still can't screw in the yard. I doubt the neighbors will take into account my deep and abiding love for you when their kid sees us and asks if we're trying to make a baby."

When they'd first moved in, the people next door stopped over to say hi, and Boyd had introduced himself, and then Raylan as his boyfriend. Their six year old daughter had giggled and asked how two boys could be boyfriends, and the girl's mom had blushed deeply and said, "Jeez, I'm sorry, I guess I should have covered that with her by now." 

They had shrugged and answered all the girl's questions, and had been sure to buy too many Girl Scout cookies from her in the spring. She loved them, and they had even babysat for her once, when their regular one cancelled at the last minute. Raylan realized that was another group of people he was going to disappoint. 

Boyd laughed and put his arms around him. "Well, then let's get inside quick. Unlike you, I didn't get to do no fucking tonight."

Raylan kissed him again and said, "You could've asked, if you wanted to. I didn't mind sticking with Kevin."

"Yes you did," Boyd said, pulling out his keys to unlock the back door. “But I don't care, baby, I got what I wanted, and honestly I'd rather have you anyway."

They went upstairs and Raylan started to undress, but Boyd put a hand on his wrist and said, "Let me do it." 

Raylan smiled at him, but felt a little concerned. There was something in Boyd's eyes that made him nervous. He didn't ask, though. Maybe he would later, when their dicks weren't hard. Right now he just wanted Boyd on top of him, inside of him. 

Boyd undressed him slowly, kissing him on every bit of skin he exposed. Maybe this was just because they'd fooled around with other people. Maybe Boyd was feeling vulnerable or something. Sometimes it had been like that in the past, a little fraught for both of them, though that had mostly been early on. It had never been anything like that with Kevin and Lauren, and Raylan didn't see why it suddenly would. 

By the time Boyd started fucking him, Raylan had been begging for it. Boyd had made sure, had insisted in fact, but Raylan could hardly have helped himself anyway. Boyd's hands, they were just too much. Not to mention his mouth. He went slow and was silent, but kept his eyes trained on Raylan's face. 

"Boyd," Raylan whispered after a good long time, "Come on, darlin'. Want to really feel it."

Boyd's eyes slid shut, and he grinned loosely. "If I do that, I'll come. But that's what you want, ain't it? You love to feel me shooting all up inside you. It makes you so hot you could go off without me touching you, couldn't you?"

"Yes," Raylan growled. 

Boyd stilled his movements entirely and said, "Raylan, I got my cock in you. You feel it?"

"Yeah," Raylan gasped. "Feels good. Your big cock inside me." A shudder ran through him when he said it. _Fuck._

"You're so beautiful, Raylan, and you make me so hot. All I got to do is think of you and I get hard. Ain't that something, after all these years?"

"Please start moving again, Boyd. Jesus Christ. I need..." he started running his hand over his cock, but Boyd pulled it off. 

"Not yet." Boyd started moving just the tiniest bit, but just in the right place. Raylan's dick got impossibly harder, and he moaned desperately. "My dick is _inside of you_ ," Boyd said again. "It's so hard. I'm almost about to come, baby, I can't help it. I'm gonna fucking come, and it's all because of you, and-"

Raylan pushed back hard into Boyd and started to reach for himself, but then he was coming, his cock spurting onto his stomach as Boyd suddenly went as hard as he could. Raylan shouted; it was so intense it almost hurt.

Boyd collapsed as soon as he pulled out, moving over next to Raylan so that only their toes were touching, nudging into each other. The Miami night was sticky and close, and they'd chosen to leave the windows open rather than put the AC on while they were gone. It was too hot for cuddling.

"That was a little something extra, huh?" Raylan asked. "What got into you?"

"Well, I certainly know what got into you," Boyd leered back. 

Raylan ignored the obvious evasion and turned on his side to look at him. "Seriously."

Boyd sighed. "Did you really mean it when you said you weren't scared?"

"I didn't exactly say that. I said I wasn't scared of what Arlo thinks of me. I meant that. It's true. He don't mean shit to me, Boyd. And I ain't afraid of what anyone else there thinks either, about you and me. I already know what most of them will think about that anyhow."

"I'm scared," Boyd said, like it was hard to get out. "You remember how I was for weeks after that time I saw Daddy. I can think from this distance that I shouldn't care, that I don't care, but when I see him it's different. I wish...I just miss the way it felt to belong there, in a family. It means something to me, and as much as I've tried to deny this to myself, his regard means something."

"Boyd, you ain't gonna have his regard. Not now. Even if you left me, you wouldn't get it back now. And I ain't gonna let you go anyway, so don't even consider trying. You're stuck with me."

"I know that," Boyd said. "I know all that. And I wouldn't trade you for that anyway. You already won that contest a long time ago."

"I mean, I love you, Boyd. You know that's what I mean, right? And I'll do anything you ever ask of me, but I can't ever fix that for you. I sorely wish I could. If I thought killing that old motherfucker would do it, I wouldn't even hesitate."

"I don't want you to kill my daddy, baby."

"Well, I'm just saying."

Boyd was quiet for a minute or so, then said, "Lauren told me she's afraid Kevin's gonna freak out when we leave."

Raylan huffed a laugh. "Yeah, he's afraid of the same thing. What did you tell her?"

"That she needs to talk to him, because telling me ain't gonna fix a thing. And I also said, maybe he might need to freak out a little. I don't know, sometimes I think maybe he's a little gayer than either of them previously thought, or perhaps hoped."

Raylan frowned. "You think? I don't think...I mean, maybe, but I don't think that means they can't work it out. Just because-"

"Raylan, I ain't saying that." He reached up and stroked fingers through his hair. "What did you tell him, anyway?"

"I told him he needs to come out to more people. And stop behaving as if he's committing a goddamn crime every time he sucks a dick."

"That's good advice, baby," Boyd yawned. "They could both benefit from a little more honesty."

"Like us," Raylan said, grinning in the dark.

"Damn straight," Boyd agreed. "Falling asleep now, honey. 'Night."

"'Night."

Raylan didn't fall asleep right away. He stayed awake, thinking about the rest of that story, about what had happened after he'd had his little epiphany. 

A few days later, the mine had caved in. Boyd had grabbed his hand and made sure he got out, and didn't let go for a long time even on the surface. Raylan tried to pull away at first, but Boyd grasped tight and wouldn't let him. 

Nights later, drinking in Boyd's truck on a back road, Boyd said, "You ever think, maybe we been lied to?"

"About what?"

"About everything, Raylan, about how things have to be, what's important, how to be a man. That it's more important to do what's expected than to do what we want."

Raylan was quiet for a long time. When they'd passed the jar a few times, he finally said, "I think they want us to do exactly what they did, so they can carry on thinking their choices weren't shit. They're looking for...what's the word..."

"Validation," Boyd put in. 

" _Yes,_ " Raylan replied, drunkenly emphatic. "Exactly. Validation." He looked at Boyd, who was looking back at him with the strangest expression, one he couldn't recall seeing before. He didn't know what it meant, but he couldn't look away from it, and there was a half-second when he thought he might do something reckless. 

Boyd saved him from that, though, by saying, "Some traditions ain't so bad, though. You got to know the rules before you decide to break them."

Raylan was far too drunk to parse that statement, so just nodded sagely and said, "Amen to that, son." They laughed, and that was it. Boyd drove them home drunk and slow over dark windy roads that they both knew like the back of their hands. A week later, Raylan was gone. A drunken send off and some manly hugs notwithstanding, that had been their true goodbye.

He still thought, considering the way things had worked out, it had probably been the best course of action. Either one of them might have said or done something that night, but for all either of them knew, it could have fucked things up for them. 

No, it was good they'd gone their separate ways, though if they hadn't found their way back to each other it was hard to imagine what their lives would be like. Or maybe it was easy, but too sad to think on for long.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night in a hotel gets Raylan thinking about their first time.

The alarm on Raylan's phone was set for 6am. They had gotten most of their things into the truck the day before, but they had to pack up the mattress they'd left to sleep on. Raylan ran out for coffee and donuts while Boyd went around the house, gathering up odds and ends from the bathroom and kitchen. 

They stood in the empty living room with their Dunkin Donuts cups, and Raylan said, "I hate that I did this to us, Boyd, made us leave our home. I'm so sorry."

"I love you, Raylan," Boyd said, shrugging slightly. "Where you are, that's home. This is just a house, we'll find another one."

Raylan sighed heavily, then squeezed Boyd's shoulder. "Let's go, then. Let's go home."

They stopped over for the night just south of Atlanta. They ate a dinner of fried chicken and coleslaw, which Raylan refused to admit to Boyd that he'd particularly missed. Boyd only scoffed at him, because of course that was bullshit, but he was also going to miss the seafood and the Cuban sandwiches now they were out of Miami. 

When they were back in their room and showered, lying in bed and watching an episode of _Treme_ that they'd already seen - a show Raylan already found boring as hell, but which Boyd stubbornly claimed to love - Boyd looked over and said, "This remind you of anything?"

"What, this show? Only of how much I miss _The Wire_."

"Oh, shut up, Raylan, I swear. Shows don't have to be about cops and criminals to be good."

"No, but it helps," Raylan said, grinning. "Anyway, we've seen this. Turn it off and I'll let you suck my dick, how's that?"

Boyd chuckled. "I ain't actually in the mood, but what I was gonna say does pertain to that in a sense. Raylan, we're in a hotel room in Atlanta."

Raylan smiled. "That we are. This one's a lot nicer, though."

"Oh, I don't know. That one had a certain rustic charm, in my memory."

Four years and some months had passed since they'd parted in Harlan. Raylan was doing his training in Glynco, Georgia, when he got a call from Boyd Crowder. He hadn't heard that voice since the day he'd left Kentucky, but he was somehow not completely surprised to get the call. 

In the years since, he had put aside any feelings he might have had back then, and ignored the tightening of his gut when Boyd said, "Raylan, it's been way too long."

Raylan's calm response made a lie of how he was suddenly feeling, when he said, "Damn right it has. What you been up to since you got out?"

"I don't want to chat on the phone like old ladies. You and me need to do some serious drinking, catch up for real."

Raylan had just started his training, and he wasn't about to come to Harlan anyway. He really did want to see Boyd, though. "What did you have in mind? I don't think I can get away."

"Well, I must admit that I'm in between profitable employment at the moment, so I have a bit more freedom just now. I was thinking I might make a road trip." Boyd sounded, not nervous exactly, but overly casual, like he didn't want Raylan to think it was any big thing. 

"Yeah?" Raylan pressed down on his knee to keep it from jiggling. "Sounds like a plan. You come on out here, we'll tear it up, boy."

They'd agreed to meet in Atlanta, because it was a little closer for Boyd, and Raylan somehow felt like it would be better to be a little distance from Glynco. He felt like he needed some breathing room if he was really going to cut loose. 

Boyd had suggested they split a double room to save money, as both of them were pretty broke at the time. That made Raylan a little panicky, all of a sudden, but the only objection he could come up with was, "What if one of us gets lucky?"

Boyd had laughed and said, "What if we both do? I'm sure we'll figure something out, Raylan."

Raylan got there first and rented the room at a cheap, shabby place they'd found in the Yellow Pages and agree upon. It had wood paneling, yellow and green polyester bedspreads from the 1970s, and coin-operated vibrating beds. Someone more self-deluding might have been able to consider it "vintage," but Raylan knew it was just a shithole. 

Boyd arrived an hour or so after him. Raylan opened the door and reached out to shake his hand, but Boyd took it and drew him into a hug instead. When he pulled back, he still had Raylan's elbow in his hand and was grinning into his face like he hadn't been so happy to see someone in his whole life. Something inside of Raylan felt like it came to life, warming like the coil on a stove. He grinned back automatically. 

"It's so good to see you, boy," Boyd said, squeezing his arm lightly before letting go. 

Boyd was so comfortable touching him, so physically confident around him, that Raylan knew he must not have noticed anything weird about him. And furthermore, he must never have felt anything similar to what Raylan had discovered, all those years ago. If he had, he'd surely be as nervous as Raylan was just then.

"Good to see you too, buddy," Raylan said. "Got a plan in mind? You always used to."

Boyd laughed. "You bet your ass I do. I brought a bottle, so I'm thinking a little pre-game wouldn't go amiss before dinner. I saw a barbecue joint had a bunch of black guys hanging around outside, so I bet it's good. And then we go find the college bars"

"Why college bars?" Raylan asked. 

"Better class of sluts," Boyd replied, grinning sharply.

They'd caught up a bit over the barbecue, talked about what they'd both been doing since they'd last seen each other. Raylan decided to just forget about whatever weird feelings he might have had, a really long time ago. It didn't mean anything anyway. How could it? It wasn't like he was _gay._ That was stupid, because he definitely liked girls. He knew he did, and gay guys didn't like girls, so that was settled. 

They didn't stay long in any one bar, but the third one they hit was a little quieter, the crowd slightly older and a little...different. Sort of edgy in a way that the other places hadn't been. The bar itself was sort of shitty, but the atmosphere was good and the drinks were cheap. Some guys with big boots and chains on their wallets played pool at a table in the corner, and the bartender was a woman in a spaghetti strap shirt with sleeve tattoos, and at least five piercings in her face. 

They sat and ordered themselves whiskeys, and then Boyd nudged him, motioning with his head down to the end of the bar. A woman was sitting there on her own, sipping a beer and reading a paperback. 

"There's only one of her though," Raylan said. 

She was small - short and thin - with very dark hair cut very short, almost like a boy. She had on a tight, long grey dress and wore a silver cuff around her upper arm. She was pretty enough, he thought, and oddly sexy, but she made him nervous. 

She wasn't really his type. Nor, if memory served, was she Boyd's, although he supposed there hadn't really been anyone like her in Harlan for either of them to consider. 

"Maybe she's got a friend coming," Boyd replied. "Who goes to a bar just to read?"

"Sounds like something you might do," Raylan laughed. "You should talk to her."

Boyd grinned and got up, walked down towards her and leaned against the bar. She looked up at Boyd and raised an eyebrow, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She stuck one in her mouth, but didn't pick up the lighter that was sitting on the bar. When Boyd took the hint and lit it for her, she nodded approvingly. 

Raylan couldn't hear what they were saying from where he sat, but he saw Boyd throw his head back and laugh once, and the woman smiled as if pleased. She looked over and caught Raylan watching, then beckoned to him. 

"Hey," he said, smiling as he walked up. 

She laughed like she thought he was being funny, and said, "Uh, yeah. Hey."

"You waiting on friends, or something?"

"Oh no," she said. "Tracy there, behind the bar, is a friend of mine. She gives me free drinks."

"Sage, this is Raylan," Boyd said. "Raylan is training to be a U.S. Marshal, over in Glynco, ain't that something?"

She gave Raylan a once-over and said, "You're too cute to be a cop. You should go into politics or something." She grinned a little maliciously. "Unless you got secrets." 

Raylan just blinked at her. He didn't know what she wanted from him, but he felt a little too drunk to try to keep up anything approaching banter. She was definitely better suited to Boyd. 

"None I can think of," Raylan said, "but I believe politics is one of the last professions I'd ever consider. If I'd wanted a life of crime and corruption, I would never have left home."

"You're cute _and_ funny," she said. "You both are. How am I supposed to choose?" Raylan was sure he saw her share a glance with the girl behind the bar. 

"Why choose?" Boyd asked, and Raylan looked at him sharply, eyes-wide. 

"What?" Raylan asked. 

"I can share, Raylan. Can't you? If the lady's interested, of course."

Raylan stood there staring at him with his mouth agape. He had no idea what to say, and the idea terrified and excited him in equal measure. Still, he thought there was no way this woman would go for it. She didn't even seem drunk.

"I can't believe you just asked me that," she laughed. "I never expected this kind of luck when I decided to come out tonight." She gathered her smokes and lighter into her purse, put a matchbook in her paperback and hopped off the stool. "Let's go."

Raylan looked at Boyd again, and Boyd just gave him a sort of bewildered shrug that told Raylan he'd never expected her to say yes. He'd just been fucking showing off, and she was calling their bluff. Raylan shook his head and trailed behind her out the door.

She followed them in her friend's car, back to the motel. Inside the room, Boyd pulled out the bottle from earlier and offered her a drink. 

"No thanks," she said, sitting on the bed and leaning against the headboard, "but do you guys want to smoke a little weed?"

They both grinned and joined her on the bed, sitting on either side of her. They passed her little stone bowl back and forth and kicked off their shoes. 

"So, do you boys do this a lot?" she asked.

"This? You mean..."

"Threeways."

"Ha, no," Boyd said. "Raylan and I hadn't even seen each other in more than four years, before tonight. We're old friends from growing up." He cleared his throat. "Um...do you?"

She smiled. "Not really. Only once with my last boyfriend, but that was with a girl. Seemed like a thing to experience though, you know?"

"Not to weird you out or anything," Raylan said, "but it probably ain't the smartest thing to be coming back to a hotel room with two guys you just met."

"Shit, I know," she said. "I am way too impulsive. You're not going to rape and kill me, are you? My mom would be so mad at me for taking stupid risks."

"No," Raylan said softly, then leaned over and kissed her. He pulled the stretchy strap of her dress off her shoulder and kept kissing down her neck and arm. Boyd ran his hand up her leg and under the dress, and while Raylan couldn't see exactly what he was doing under there, he felt he could make a decent guess. 

Raylan tugged at the dress and she lifted up a little so he could pull it from under her thighs and up over her head. He pushed down one of the lacy cups of her bra and freed her breast, sucking on it and rubbing the nipple of her other breast through the lace. Boyd was still working at her pussy with his fingers and had started kissing her neck. She moaned and grabbed at Raylan's free hand, bringing it between her legs where Boyd's was. 

When their fingers met, they both pulled them away quickly. Raylan didn't even want to look at him, much less touch him, just then. 

They went on as they had for awhile, then she said, "You have to get naked too."

Raylan licked his lips. He was really hard and wanted some relief, but this whole thing felt so weird. It was too late to back out, though, he figured. He sat up and pulled off his shirt, then slid his jeans off. Boyd did the same, and they were all in their underwear. 

Boyd kissed Sage then, and let her maneuver him onto his back. She knelt over him, lightly brushing her crotch against the hard length of his cock. Raylan tried not to stare, but he couldn't help glancing down every few seconds, even after she'd reached out for him and he came up behind her, fondling her breasts and rubbing himself up against her ass. He was very carefully not touching Boyd's legs, but he could feel the heat coming off of them.

Sage leaned over and kissed Boyd, pushing her ass back and grinding so hard into Raylan's cock that he thought for a second he might come. He gasped, and Boyd's eyes met his for a second over Sage's shoulder. He looked almost as ready to lose it as Raylan himself felt. 

Sage turned around then and smiled crookedly at Raylan. Then she swung her leg over to kneel next to Boyd. "Now you guys, okay?" she said. 

Boyd blinked dazedly, then said, "Huh?" 

"Aren't you going to make out?" she asked, looking between the two of them. "That's pretty much the reason I agreed to this. I thought it sounded hot."

"But we're not-" Raylan started, then realized he really wasn't sure what he was or was not. "We don't do that," he went with instead. 

She frowned at Raylan, a pretty expression on her. It made her look like a scientist, he thought randomly. She turned back to Boyd. "You gave me a different impression back at the bar," she accused, and Boyd's face turned suddenly guarded, almost afraid. Raylan didn't think he'd ever seen him look like that before. He wondered what could have passed between them in the short time they'd spoken to give her that idea.

"Well," she said to both of them, "I'd do it for you, if there was a girl here. I think you should do it for me. How bad could it be? It's just kissing."

Raylan was shaking his head, and Boyd said, "We wouldn't ask you to do nothing you didn't actually want to do, honey."

"Well, Boyd," she said, "I don't exactly think that's what I'm doing either. Aren't you at least curious? Come on. I'll fuck both of you if you try this for me."

Raylan's eyes found Boyd's again, though he would much rather have avoided them. He had to look, though, had to know what Boyd wanted, here. He looked scared, or at least worried, but the fact that he hadn't said no outright probably meant something. 

Raylan shrugged, trying to seem cavalier about it. "Sure, whatever. No big deal. Long as you meant it about that fuck."

She looked at Boyd, and he just nodded. He crawled over and sat back on his heels next to Raylan, who was doing the same. Raylan was trying very hard to get his breathing under control, but panic threatened to overwhelm him. His heart was pounding at an alarming rate as well. He looked at her again, like he was awaiting instructions. She just licked her lips and stared at them.

Boyd saved both of them by reaching out for him and placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. It wasn't until he did that, that Raylan realized he'd been trembling. Raylan reached his own hand out and tentatively put it on Boyd's waist, and they pulled each other in. 

Boyd grinned a little and tried to laugh, but Raylan was beyond that by then. He pushed forward and put his mouth to Boyd's, and it was awkward. There were teeth everywhere, and they had to readjust a few times before they figured it out, but then they did. It was a good kiss, really good in fact, and they did it a few more times. 

Boyd's hand slipped down from his shoulder to his bicep, and his other hand grasped at his hip, drawing him suddenly closer. Raylan tried to evade him, not wanting him to know how hard he was, in case Boyd was just acting for the girl. He didn't move fast enough, though, and it became quickly apparent that it wasn't an act. Boyd was hard too, and pressed himself up against Raylan as he plunged his tongue into his mouth. 

Raylan let him grind against him a few times, then abruptly grabbed his hips and pushed him back, breaking the kiss as well. They stared at each other, panting hard, almost angry and definitely terrified. 

Raylan pushed Sage down and tore her panties off of her. Still breathing heavily, he grabbed a rubber off the nightstand and tore it open. "Okay?" he asked, gruffly. After a whispered "yeah," he slipped on the condom and entered her. He closed his eyes and groaned. It was such a relief, and he was so glad she was a girl, and she was there, and that made this whole thing much easier to handle. 

He'd just been thinking that when Boyd laid down beside her and started sucking on her nipples, going back and forth between them. He stopped for a second to kiss her, and Raylan had the strangest flash of anger, like he wanted to pull him away from her. 

"Let me get on top?" she asked, and Raylan rolled them over. Now it was him lying there, and he looked over at Boyd. Boyd looked like he wanted to do it, wanted to come lay next to him like he'd done with her, but couldn't quite make himself do it. And Raylan couldn't quite ask. They just stared at each other, eyes locked, until she said, "Jesus Christ, you idiots. He wants a kiss, Boyd."

"Oh," Boyd said. "Really?" Raylan closed his eyes in response, and the next thing he felt was Boyd's skin up against his, and a long-fingered hand on his face. He opened his eyes and said, "Yeah," and Boyd kissed him. 

Sage was playing with her own nipples, grinding down on Raylan, hard and rhythmic, and little breathy noises started coming from her mouth until finally they grew longer and lower, and Raylan felt her spasming around his dick. She collapsed down on him, and he rolled her over so they were side by side, with her in between him and Boyd. It wasn't for protection this time. He pushed into her while Boyd pushed back from behind, and it only took a few more strokes to finish. 

Raylan rolled onto his back again, and Sage sat up. She looked at Boyd and said, "You want to go? I did promise."

"That's okay, honey, I think you've already gone above and beyond," Boyd said. "I'll take care of it."

He sat up and kissed her, then slid over and reached for Raylan. "You don't have to do nothing," he said, looking down and not anywhere near Raylan's eyes, "I just want to kiss you again while I..." Raylan rolled towards him kissed him as he started jerking himself off. "Oh, God," he said, grunting softly as his come splattered onto Raylan's stomach.

Raylan looked down at the mess on his stomach, then laughed breathily. Boyd said, "Let me...I'll get something..."

Sage handed him a box of tissues, then located her panties and slid them on. When she got up, Raylan said, "Where you going? Why don't you stay over? We at least owe you breakfast."

She looked at him with a look of affectionate amusement as he mopped Boyd's come off his stomach. "You guys are pretty cute. I think you've got some shit to talk about, though, don't you?"

Raylan shook his head and protested, "No, it's okay, that was just..." He trailed off when he saw the look Boyd was giving him. His face had darkened and his eyes held a warning, but about what, Raylan wasn't entirely sure. "Yeah, okay. Maybe we do," he finished. 

Boyd got up, pulled on his shorts and found her purse, then handed it to her. "Thank you for your help," he said, and she laughed. 

"I'm really not a therapist. I just came for the sex, and the story I guess. Now I have a good one." She kissed his cheek and left. Boyd watched from the doorway until she got into her car and pulled away, then turned slowly back around to where Raylan was sitting, staring down at his hands. 

Boyd sat down on the bed, not close enough to touch him. "What were you gonna say to her? It was just what?"

Raylan shrugged. "I was gonna tell her the same bullshit I've been telling myself, I suppose. That it was just some fluke. Some kind of brain short circuit."

Boyd nodded. "So that is bullshit, then?"

"For me it is, yeah. I think I might be...I don't know. Not...shit, Boyd, I don't know what words to use. Or I don't want to, maybe. I think- I think I fell in love with you back in Harlan."

"You think," Boyd said, not really asking. "Well, I think so too, Raylan. I've been thinking about it for the last four years, trying to understand it. I knew how I felt about you, but I wasn't sure if..." He rubbed his face hard with both hands. "I went to a bar one time, on leave. I tried-I kissed this boy. I needed to know if I could, if I wanted to if it wasn't you."

Raylan was staring at him with wide eyes. He was amazed. It never would have occurred to him to do that, but it seemed like an obvious thing to try. "And did you-"

"He tried to touch me and I freaked out and ran off. But I think that was because I wanted him to. I was- I was into it." Boyd smiled slightly. "I picked him because he didn't seem anything like you. He was this skinny, soft little faggy kid. With like, blonde tips in his hair." He laughed. "But I liked it anyway."

"Okay," Raylan breathed.

"Is that...I mean, do you ever-"

"I don't know," Raylan said, not really sure what Boyd was asking, but it didn't matter. He didn't know anything. "I probably should have tried to figure it out too, but I just ignored it. Pretended it didn't matter."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

That was fair, Raylan thought. "I don't want to do that anymore."

Boyd nodded. "So what do we do now?"

Raylan raised his hands, then let them fall into his lap, helpless. He looked at Boyd, way down at the other end of the bed. "If I only wanted you when my dick was hard, this would be a lot simpler."

Boyd laughed and put his face in his hand, rubbing the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. "You mean you wish you only wanted to fuck me, not love me?"

"I guess. But I don't think it's like that. Maybe it is for you, and if it is, that's okay, Boyd. I don't expect-"

"Hush," Boyd said, holding up his hand. "Just tell me what it is you actually want from me, Raylan. Like, right now, I mean. At this moment."

Raylan shook his head slightly, but it wasn't because he didn't know the answer. It just seemed weird, and impossible to say, and he was terrified of asking for it and being refused. Boyd didn't move, and they sat that way in silence for at least a minute.

Finally, Raylan said, "Would you come here and lie down with me? Could we maybe turn out the lights and talk?"

Boyd let out tension that Raylan hadn't been aware he'd been holding. He relaxed visibly, then nodded and crawled up to where Raylan was sitting, and they spent some time straightening out the covers before lying down. Raylan reached over and clicked off the lamp on the nightstand, then reached out hesitantly to lay a hand on Boyd's chest, over the blanket. Boyd covered it with his own, and let out a sigh. 

"Do you mind if we hold off on more talking until tomorrow?" Boyd asked. 

"Yeah, okay," Raylan replied. He turned his body in towards Boyd a little more, and Boyd responded by rolling onto his side, away from Raylan, but pushing himself closer so their bodies fit against each other. "Okay," Raylan said again, "that's good." 

Lying next to Boyd, fifteen years and plenty of experience down the road, Raylan grinned and said, "That was the most amazing goddamn night of my life, up to that point, anyway. It's still pretty high up there."

"I would think so," Boyd laughed. "Thank God for ethical sluts. I wish we had that girl's address so we could send her Christmas cards."

"Shit, we didn't even get her last name," Raylan said. "Jesus Christ. We were kind of assholes, weren't we?"

"I think we can probably give ourselves a pass, baby, all things considered. But I do regret it." Boyd kissed him, suddenly, stroking his hair. "If not for her, we might have lost our chance."

"You sure you ain't in the mood?" Raylan asked.

"We been driving all goddamn day, Raylan."

"Fine," Raylan huffed. "I'm going to sleep then. Feel free to watch the rest of this episode, I guarantee you it won't keep me up."

Boyd waited a little while, until maybe he thought Raylan was asleep, before turning it off and lying down. Raylan cuddled up to him, both because he wanted to, and because he wanted to let him know that he knew that Boyd hadn't really wanted to watch the show.


	6. Six

The following afternoon, they pulled into the lot of a rundown two story motel, not at all dissimilar to the one they'd stayed in all those years ago. 

"Are you fucking kidding me, Raylan?" Boyd sat in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers on the wheel. "How long do you expect me to stay here?"

"Hopefully not long," Raylan said. "Once I talk to Art-"

"Baby, listen to me. If they're sending you here, I can only guess that nowhere else would take you right now. Art only did it because he's a friend, and I believe because he takes a perverse enjoyment from the reaction you and I sometimes provoke."

"Christ," Raylan said, hitting the back of his head against the head rest a few times. "He'll probably make me bring you in to introduce you. Honestly, I should probably find his amusement offensive. Maybe I should file a hostile work environment claim. Then they'd have to transfer me."

"He may indeed do that, but that's only because the man loves me. I believe he thinks of me as the son he never had. Raylan, honey, we ain't staying here more than a week. I'm gonna start looking first thing tomorrow. We will kill each other, we share a single room longer than that."

Raylan heaved a heavy sigh and climbed out of the truck. He hated when Boyd's logic popped the bubbles of his self-delusions.

Art came by the room on the Sunday before his first day of work, and the first thing he did was give Boyd a big smile and a two handed shake. "How you been, son?" Art asked. "How's business?"

"Not bad, Art. 'Course I'll have to change up my circuit a bit, being up here, but if I recall correctly there's a decent market up this way." Raylan laughed humorlessly at that. "How's Leslie?"

"She's doing fine, thanks for asking." Art jerked his head towards Raylan. "He still a pain in the ass?"

Raylan glared at both of them. "I'm right here. You want to know if I'm a pain in the ass, you could just ask me. And the answer is yes, obviously, but he puts up with it because I am outstanding in so many ways. And if you don't cut the shit, Art, I'll start listing them."

Art held the glare for a few seconds, his face impassive, then he smiled and cackled a little, coming over to shake Raylan's hand. "It's good to see you, Raylan. Looking forward to having you on my team."

"It's gonna be good working with you. Only thing is, uh-"

"You don't want to be here. You wish you were still living it up down in Miami, drinking rum and wearing flip flops to work, is that it?"

Raylan shook his head, opened his mouth to protest, but Art cut him off again. "The only other place you can go is out of the Marshal service, son. I took you on as a favor. Can you think of anyone else might be willing to do such a thing?"

"No," Raylan sighed. 

Art looked around at the room. "You got a place to live lined up?"

Boyd shot a look at Art, and Raylan thinned his lips at Boyd. 

"Oh dear," Art said. "Well, I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow, Raylan." He started to walk out, then turned back, Columbo-style, and added, "Boyd, you busy tomorrow?"

"Other than scouring the city for an acceptable living arrangement, no sir."

"Why don't you stop by the office, have a drink, meet Raylan's coworkers?" He looked pointedly at Raylan. "Wouldn't want a repeat of what happened in Miami, would we?"

"Dan told you about that?" Raylan was outraged. "That was five goddamn years ago, and he ought to mind his own business. Worse than an old lady."

"I appreciate that, Art, and I'll be happy to stop by and drink some of your good bourbon. I ain't worried about any of that shit, though. We're all squared away." 

He looked at Art with a finality that Raylan appreciated. He would commiserate and joke around with Art about Raylan, to a degree, but when it meant something he was always on Raylan's side. 

"Glad to hear it," Art said. He shook both of their hands and left. 

When the door closed behind him, Raylan flopped down on the crappy bed and held out his arms. "Get over here," he said.

"Excuse me?" Boyd said.

"I said 'get over here,' but if you want I'll say, 'get over here, please.' I want to cuddle."

"And by cuddle, you mean..."

"I mean I want to suck your dick and then cuddle."

Boyd grinned. "As you please, Raylan." He laid down next to Raylan and let him unbutton his shirt and kiss his chest. "Why this sudden surge of affection?"

Raylan smiled against his skin. "Ain't nothing sudden about it," he murmured. 

"You know what I- ah," he drew a breath through his teeth as Raylan slipped a hand into his jeans. 

"Stop talking unless you're gonna say something sexy."

"That feels so good, baby. Is your dick hard too? What you want me to do after I come in your pretty mouth?" 

Raylan looked up at him from between his legs and smiled. "You'll think of something," he said, just before taking the full length of Boyd's cock down his throat. 

Boyd was big - bigger than Raylan, anyway, and he'd never felt like he had anything to be ashamed about himself. The first time he'd really looked at it, hard, he'd felt a little intimidated. 

That had happened the day after their encounter with the lovely Sage. They had gone to sleep together that night, then both woken up with erections and awkwardly pulled away from each other. They'd taken turns in the bathroom, not really talking except to mutter "Morning," or "Scuse me." 

Raylan hadn't been able to look Boyd in the eye, and had been acting so weird that finally Boyd said, "Raylan, if you were drunker than I realized last night, and you want to take back anything you said, go ahead and do it now. I won't hold it against you."

Raylan gave a short laugh and actually looked at Boyd then. They'd both put clothes on, so it was easier. "How would that work, do you think? I just take it back, and then it's unsaid? I can go back to pretending it ain't true, and you can go on like you never heard it, and then what?"

Boyd sat down on the edge of the bed they'd slept in, and Raylan sat on the other one, still made up in its stiff polyester bedspread. 

"I don't know, Raylan," he said. "I thought that might be something you'd be able to live with."

"I said I didn't want that."

Boyd shrugged. "I thought that might be what you'd want to take back."

"Look, Boyd," Raylan said, beginning to feel put out, "I know I'm acting uncomfortable here, and that's because I am. But it ain't like you're Mister Secure about it either. It ain't fair, putting it all on me. Do you want to take something back? Leave and forget anything ever happened? Because really, nothing did, I mean you could look at it that way if you needed to."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

"Yeah." Raylan sighed and looked down at his hands. "Maybe we should just..." Raylan trailed off, because he could barely think about what he was about to suggest, much less say it out loud.

"Raylan?" Boyd was looking at him expectantly. "We should just what?"

Raylan swallowed hard. "We got a couple hours until check out. Maybe we should see if...I mean, we could try...something."

Boyd nodded slowly and said, "Alright."

Raylan got up and walked over, sat next to Boyd on the other bed and rubbed a hand up and down his back.

"Is that your usual move?" Boyd looked amused. 

"It's one of 'em," Raylan said, slightly defensive. "If the girl seems skittish."

"I ain't no skittish girl, Raylan," Boyd said, turning to him and pushing him back onto the mattress. He climbed on top and Raylan was incredibly relieved. It was what he'd wanted the whole time, for Boyd to just do it, and stop asking him what he wanted. He would do whatever Boyd liked, he just didn't want to talk about it. 

Boyd kissed him, straddling his hips, and Raylan could feel his dick, pressing hard through his jeans into Raylan's thigh. Raylan was plenty hard too, and it was maddening, making out like this. He couldn't remember the last time he'd still had all of his clothes on at this stage in the proceedings. 

Boyd was rocking his hips back and forth against him, and fuck, it felt good, but he didn't want to come in his pants like a damn kid. He'd only brought the one pair. But he didn't want to _ask,_ so he just let him keep going. 

Boyd stopped suddenly and sat up, all of his weight centered over Raylan's groin. "I don't know how you feel about this, Raylan," he said, "but if I don't take off my pants soon, it's gonna be a problem."

Raylan nodded, and Boyd swung off of him. The loss of pressure made him light-headed for a second, and he stayed put, dazedly watching Boyd push his jeans down. He wasn't even thinking about it consciously when he said, "Take everything off."

Boyd stilled and met his eyes. "You can talk," he said, smiling for probably the first time that morning. "I ain't getting naked unless you do, son."

Raylan huffed and got up, pulled his shirt off and went to him, slowly pulling him close. "I'll do whatever you want," he said. He put his forehead down on Boyd's shoulder. It felt good to say that, to admit what he needed. Then he felt Boyd reach for his fly, pull the button open and slide the zipper down. 

Raylan's heart was pounding so hard that it was almost interfering with his breathing, which was coming fast and shallow. He let Boyd ease his jeans over his hips, and kicked them away after they fell to his ankles. His hands were shaking, but still, he tugged up on Boyd's t-shirt and pulled it over his head. When their bodies came back together after that, the feeling of so much skin against skin was nearly overwhelming.

They were both in their underwear then, and Raylan didn't feel ready to make that move just yet. They'd been naked together the night before, but he'd been too distracted and freaked out to think too much about it. This was just the two of them, and they were trying this. They'd have to look, because that was part of it. No more pretending something wasn't true that was. 

He slid his hands into the back of Boyd's shorts and squeezed his ass, pressing himself into him. Boyd's eyes widened and he moaned. Once again, Raylan thought he might come. This was ridiculous. He released Boyd, stepped back, and pulled his shorts off. Boyd was motionless for a second, staring at Raylan's naked body, then shucked his own shorts quickly.

"Damn," Raylan said, before he could censor himself. "That's...impressive."

Boyd grinned. "It is, ain't it? You gonna," he licked his lips and paused. "You gonna touch it, Raylan?" he finished in a hushed voice. 

"Uh," Raylan said, still staring. "Okay." He didn't move, though, and finally Boyd came closer and took his hand. 

"Please," Boyd said, and that was all he needed. He sat back on the bed, pulling Boyd down with him and reaching for him. It was an almost electrifying feeling, his fingers grasping loosely at Boyd's cock and moving up and down. Everything felt magnified, and incredible, and his fears were gone, at least for the moment. When Boyd touched him, he drew in a hard breath and gripped him more tightly. 

Boyd pushed him back onto the mattress, and it was suddenly too much, too good, and he barely had time to mutter, "Boyd-" before he was coming, losing his hold on Boyd's dick and grabbing his waist and pressing his face into his neck, as if he might otherwise float away or some shit. That was the way it felt, like his body and head weren't attached. 

Boyd kissed him roughly, then grasped his hip and shoved him over onto his stomach. Raylan had a moment of panic that Boyd might try to fuck him with his big dick, and he was pretty sure you couldn't just go at it all at once like that, but all he did was slide up between his ass cheeks and press himself in there, moving back and forth and squeezing Raylan's shoulders hard. It actually felt really good, and he was wondering if he might be able to get off again, when Boyd groaned loudly and he felt warm wetness on his lower back. 

Raylan laid there with his head in his arm while Boyd cleaned off his back with a tissue. When he'd finished, Raylan rolled over and they sat looking at each other for a few seconds. It was stupid for them to be nervous. Boyd wasn't going to freak out now, and neither was he. It would be okay. 

Raylan gave Boyd a crooked grin and said, "Where you gonna come on me next?"

"I'm not sure," Boyd said, smiling back at him. "Depends on how many more chances I'm gonna get."

Raylan hadn't really given that any thought. Was Boyd just going to leave that afternoon and head back to Harlan, like nothing ever happened? It seemed impossible. But what other choice did he have, did either of them have? Maybe they could do this again. Like, really soon. He didn't want to wait at all. 

"How many chances do you want, Boyd? You tell me," he said, quietly and without humor. He wanted Boyd to know he meant it.

"I want..." He frowned like he hadn't even considered the possibility of being asked. "I don't want to try to be clever here, Raylan. I want whatever you feel you can offer me. I want as many chances as I can get, and I want to do whatever you or I might think to do, for as long as we both want to."

"Is it me?" Raylan asked. "I mean, is this about me, or just...what you want to find out about yourself?"

Boyd looked almost stricken at that, and he shook his head slowly. "You don't know?"

"I don't know shit," Raylan said. "Not about what you think. I barely know about what I think, other than I wish you could stay with me. I gotta figure this shit out either way, but I'd much rather do it with you."

"You really wish that?" Boyd asked. Raylan nodded, and Boyd stared at him for maybe half a minute before moving over to sit next to Raylan, close enough to lean up against his side. 

Raylan turned his head to look at him, then kissed him. It was the first time they'd done that when they weren't already turned on, the first time they'd done it out of affection only. 

"I wish I could too," Boyd said. He raised his hand to touch Raylan's face, and kissed him again, feather-light on his lips. "I wish we could just stay here in this room for days and only put our clothes on to answer the door for the pizza delivery guy-"

"If that," Raylan cut in, grinning.

Boyd laughed, and Raylan wanted to kiss him again, so he did. Then they kissed a bunch more times and eventually ended up horizontal on the bed. Boyd rolled on top of him, grinning wildly down at him, and said, "You and me ain't done after today, son, not by a long shot."

That had been a profound understatement, because at the age of 39, they were still working on what they'd begun in another shitty hotel room when they were barely more than kids. Now, things had come full circle for them, landing them back in Kentucky after all these years. 

Boyd took his time finishing, and Raylan's jaw ached by the end. He let Boyd jerk him off and didn't bother making it last, because he really had pretty much just wanted to cuddle. He was feeling so weird about starting up work in this place. 

When they were under the sheets, Raylan's head resting on Boyd's shoulder, he said, "What should I do? Should I get out in front and tell everyone about you as soon as I get there, or just wait until you come in and let Art do it for me?"

Boyd sighed. "God, it's so tiresome, ain't it? I don't know, baby, I think just let Art take care of it. He'll embarrass the shit out of us, but it'll be over with quick."

"Okay," Raylan said. "That's what I was thinking too."


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a visit from Boyd, the rest of Raylan's first day at the office turns out to be pretty eventful.

He got to work early the next morning, a situation he fully realized was unlikely to occur too many more times. Still, he figured, why not make a good impression. 

It was a pretty small office, and he smiled at the few staff who had gotten there ahead of him. He could see Art through the glass walls of his inner office, so he knocked on the door and walked in. Art looked up and scowled, but it was a welcoming scowl, to the extent something like that was possible. 

He walked out and introduced Raylan to the other deputies in the office. Rachel Brooks seemed quiet, but he was pretty sure she was concealing something interesting under that sweet smile. She definitely wasn't trusting him yet, that was for damn sure. 

Tim Gutterson looked like a kid, but his eyes told a different story, and he had an attitude. Possibly that was just an alpha male response, though, trying to mark his territory. Raylan was too old to care about that shit too much anymore, and anyway, maybe Tim would be set at ease once Boyd came in and Raylan was outed as the office queer. It wouldn't be the first time people had underestimated him for that reason, though they always regretted it. 

He spent the morning acquainting himself with ongoing cases, and he had just come back from grabbing a sandwich when Boyd came strolling in, searching the room with his eyes. He grinned when he saw Raylan lift a hand at him in greeting, and he ambled over to sit on the edge of his desk. 

"Hey," Boyd said. "How's your day going?"

Raylan shrugged. "Not bad," he answered. "About to get more interesting, I guess."

"I know that's true," Boyd laughed. 

"Boyd, you made it," Art said from the doorway of his office. "Come on in here, son."

Boyd raised his eyebrows at Raylan and said, "Fun starts now." Raylan chuckled, and Boyd hopped off his desk and walked over, closing Art's door behind him. 

They were in there for awhile, and Raylan could see a little through the glass. They were having a drink, and he heard the faint sound of Boyd laughing loudly. He loved Art, though he'd never admit it. Even more than Raylan, he seemed to respond to him like Art was his daddy. Maybe Boyd needed that more than Raylan did. 

Tim came back to his desk, which was next to Raylan's, and said, "Who's that dude in there with Art? Looked like you knew him."

"Oh, that's Boyd Crowder," Raylan said casually. "My husband."

Tim stared at him blankly, then laughed. "Of course he is."

"Well, obviously not really," Raylan shrugged. "But he would be if the world was a more fair and just place." He was enjoying himself now. "I just don't like the word 'partner,' and 'boyfriend' started sounding stupid once we hit thirty."

Tim was giving him a look that was fairly familiar to Raylan at this point. He didn't want to offend, but he also didn't want to be caught falling for some stupid joke. How he handled it might tell Raylan something, so he waited. 

After a second, Tim nodded and said, "Well, I'm sure the day is coming you'll be able to make an honest man of him. Or he'll be able to make one of you. However that works." 

Then he pulled some papers out of a pile and sat back to look through them, almost looking totally cool about it except for the flush on his cheeks. Raylan would have liked to laugh at him, but he didn't know him quite well enough to do that yet. He wondered if Tim realized he'd been testing him, or that he'd more or less passed. 

After some time, Art's door opened, and he came out with his arm across Boyd's shoulders. He said, in a much louder voice than necessary, "It's real good having you and Raylan around again. You two really are my favorite couple in the world. You're the only people I know who could piss off both Sean Hannity and Rachel Maddow at once, and make 'em both fall in love with you at the same time. You guys don't make any sense. It cracks me the hell up."

Everyone was staring and pretending not to, an all Raylan could think to say was, "We'd make sense to you if you spent more time in Harlan." Boyd snorted and muttered, "You said it, baby."

To Art, Boyd said, "Well, thanks for the excellent drink, sir. When we get settled in a decent place, you and Leslie'll be the first people we have over." 

Then he turned to Raylan and said, "Which reminds me, do you care if you see the place first, or would you rather I just pick one and move on it?" Raylan just raised one eyebrow at him, and Boyd smiled. "Alright, then."

"I'll walk you out," Raylan said. The elevator was empty when they got in, so Raylan put his arms around Boyd and kissed him, then asked, "Did Art say anything particularly informative and/or amusing?" 

"Not really. We just talked guns, mostly. He did mention he heard about some white supremacist action happening down Harlan way, but no specifics. I told him I wasn't real surprised."

Raylan nodded. "Christ, I hope I don't get pulled into some bullshit down there."

"You and me both." Boyd kissed him quickly as the doors opened onto the lobby. "See you tonight."

"Yep," Raylan replied, but gave him a wink and a grin before the doors closed again.

No sooner had Raylan walked back into the office, when Art called him in to speak to him. 

"What's up, Art? Was there someone you missed outing me to? You want me to put on my leather shorts and parade up and down the hallways of the courthouse?"

Art didn't look amused, though, not even in a scowly way, so Raylan wiped the smirk off his face and said, "What's going on?"

"Raylan, how much do you know about Boyd's family?"

Raylan's brows drew together hard. This couldn't possibly be anything but very, very bad. "I know what Boyd knows," Raylan said carefully. "I know in general terms, but nothing specific that's in any way current. Neither of us has been back to Harlan in fifteen years."

"And he's not in touch with any of them?" Art was staring intensely, like he was a human lie detector. 

"No," Raylan said, shaking his head emphatically. "He ran into his daddy at an expo maybe ten years back, and they went out for a drink after. Boyd was thinking he could reconnect, but he also thought he should...Boyd was all about coming out in those days. Wanted to live an authentic life and all that shit. Admirable, and I agree with him, but to a point that stops short of telling Bo Crowder I suck cock." He paused, realizing that was probably an inappropriate choice of words to use with your boss, however tolerant he might be. "Sorry, Art. I meant, 'telling Bo Crowder I harbor romantic feelings for a man.'"

"Ugh, Raylan, the first way was much less embarrassing." He scowled and shook his head. "Can't imagine that went over great." When Raylan snorted and shook his head, he asked, "So does that mean he just knows about Boyd in general terms, or about you specifically?"

"Oh, well," Raylan laughed humorlessly, "that made it all the better. We had a deal, me and Boyd. Still do, I guess, though it ain't really something I give a thought to anymore, not for a long time. But the deal was, where one of us was out, the other was too, 'cause it doesn't work any other way, and it's bullshit. So when he decided to tell Bo, I was going along for that whether I liked it or not." Raylan sighed and sat down on Art's couch. "For the record, I did not. But he felt he had to, and there it is. Bo disowned him, of course, not that Boyd wanted any of his money. He just wanted his daddy to be his daddy."

Art's face was pulled into a distressed expression. Raylan understood; it was really fucking sad. That had been a terrible thing. The two of them had been together for about seven years, and going along pretty good. Raylan was stationed in western Texas, and Boyd's business was starting to get off the ground. He'd gone to a show in Missouri, which was farther away than he normally travelled, but it was a big one and he'd felt like he couldn't miss the opportunity.

Raylan had heard from him in the afternoon, and he'd sounded a little wound up, but happy. Bo had been there, with some boys he was working with, and had seemed happy to see Boyd. He was going out after the show to buy him a drink. 

Raylan's stomach had dropped out when Boyd said, "I'm gonna tell him about us, Raylan."

"Boyd... _why?_ " 

"How can you ask me that? You know why. I can't live a lie."

Raylan's hand was in his hair, gripping it like he wanted to pull it out. "Boyd. Darlin'. You ain't living any lie. Just, please, don't do this. Just let him think whatever he's gonna think, or shit, tell him you got a girl, I don't care, just don't do this to yourself."

"Raylan, I need to know you support me on this. I gotta know I can be honest about _everything._ "

Raylan sighed softly. "I'm always with you. We made a deal and I ain't backing out. I love you, Boyd, I just don't want to see you get hurt by that asshole."

"I really think it'll be okay, Raylan."

The next phone call came at around midnight. Boyd's voice was quiet, chastened, and he said, "Well, you were right. I needed to do it, and I did, but it was bad. It was real bad."

Raylan gripped the receiver hard and closed his eyes. Of course it had been fucking bad. How the hell could Boyd have thought otherwise? It was killing him that he couldn't see or touch Boyd right now. 

He said, "Oh Boyd, shit. Shit, I wish I could be there. I'm so sorry. I'm just...so goddamn sorry. I love you so much. You deserve so much better than that."

Boyd didn't answer for awhile, and Raylan thought he was probably crying, though of course he'd never call attention to it. He just waited, and finally Boyd said, "I love you too, Raylan. God, I really do. And that's worth all this shit, it is, but it ain't easy."

"I'm sorry," he said again, not knowing what else there was.

"Don't you dare be sorry," Boyd shot back, almost angry. "I ain't sorry. We're happy. Fuck him, fuck Harlan, fuck all of them."

There was a second night of the expo, and it was all Raylan could do not to get on a plane and fly out to Missouri the next morning. But, they were broke, and he was supposed to be on call, and he thought maybe Boyd wouldn't want him there anyway. He ended up regretting that decision, because when Boyd got home he was a fucking mess. 

For the next three weeks, he drank way too much, was silent and withdrawn, and didn't even want sex. Raylan tried to get him to talk a few times, but he wasn't the best at that sort of thing, and mostly he'd just hoped Boyd would get over it eventually. 

And he had, he'd come back out of his head and things had gone back to normal. It had occurred to Raylan that maybe they should talk more about it, maybe they needed to deal with it, but Boyd didn't seem to want that any more than he had. They went on with their lives and didn't speak of Bo or Arlo, and the only times they talked about Harlan, it was about the two of them. 

Now, Art wanted to talk about that shit, for some reason, and Raylan felt sick. He wouldn't be bringing it up unless he had to.

"Why are you asking me about this?" 

Art looked incredibly uncomfortable, and he said, "I didn't say anything to Boyd about it, but we've been watching the Crowders for awhile. We know they're involved in meth manufacture and distribution, but we haven't been able to pin anything on them yet. Bo Crowder is currently incarcerated, but he doesn't have much longer on his sentence. Just now, I got word that Bowman Crowder has been shot."

"Shit."

"Do you know his wife, Ava, by any chance?"

Raylan stared at him, wide-eyed. " _Ava?_ She married that asshole?"

"Apparently. That doesn't mean anything to me, but I guess it does to you. She's the one who shot him. At the dinner table. Said he's been beating her for years, and he attacked her, hit her in the head."

Raylan lowered his head into his hands. "Is she in lock up?"

Art shook his head. "Out on bail. You think they'll go after her?"

Raylan sighed heavily. "Yeah, I do. I gotta... goddamm it, I can't believe this is happening. I have to call Boyd."

"He ought to stay out of it, son."

Raylan half-laughed and said, "Well, yeah. He ought to." He left and went back to his desk, pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment. 

"You have to push the buttons," Tim said. 

Raylan ignored him and dialed Boyd's phone. He wouldn't even be home yet. 

"You miss me already?" Boyd said, picking up on the first ring. 

"Boyd, I have no idea how to say this, so I'm just gonna come right out and say it." Tim was definitely eavesdropping, but there was really not much he could do about it. "Your brother was shot this morning by his wife, and she's claiming self-defense and years of abuse. Ava, remember her? Bowman was starting to see her just before we left."

There was silence over the line for some time, but Raylan knew he was still there. After maybe a minute, Boyd said, "Bowman's dead."

"I'm so sorry, Boyd. Christ, I'm a goddamn idiot, I should have come home to tell you this. I'll come right now, I'll just tell Art-"

"No, honey, don't do that. Don't bother, I ain't gonna go home anyway. I'm gonna head on down there and talk to Miss Ava, see what she has to say, and maybe see about funeral arrangements."

Raylan nearly dropped the phone. "Boyd, what are you talking about? Let them down there figure that shit out. If we didn't come here, you wouldn't even know about it, 'cause they couldn't be bothered to tell you."

"Raylan, listen. He was my brother. I have to do this. And...if Ava is telling the truth about what happened, then she may be in danger. My daddy might-"

"Bo's in prison," Raylan cut in. 

Boyd only missed one beat before saying, "Well, that don't mean he can't or won't do anything. I'm going, baby, there ain't a thing you can do to talk me out of it, so don't bother."

"Boyd go back to the hotel and wait for me. I'll pick you up and we'll go together. Will you do that much for me? Please?"

"You don't have to get involved in this shit, Raylan. You don't want to be in Harlan, and I don't blame you. This is my family's bullshit."

"Then it's mine too, Boyd," Raylan said softly. "How can you say different?"

Boyd was quiet again, then sighed and said, "Okay. I'll be at the hotel. Thanks."

Art was a little more difficult to convince, but when Raylan said, "Look, Boyd's going whether I do or not, and it won't be good for him to deal with this shit alone," he relented. 

"You watch out for him, son," Art said, pointing in an almost accusatory way. "You think you went through something in Miami a few years back, but that's nothing compared to how family can fuck with your relationship. I speak from experience. Take care of him, and don't take shit personally when he acts like an asshole."

"Okay, Art."

"And take Rachel. No arguments, you hear?"

"Yeah, Art, fine." 

Raylan wasn't sure how Boyd would feel about Rachel tagging along, but he'd just have to deal with it. Much as he didn't really like it himself, he couldn't deny it was a good idea. He had no idea what they'd be walking into. 

Rachel didn't talk much for the first few minutes of the drive, but after a little bit she said in a very polite, cautious voice, "So, you and your boyfriend, you knew each other growing up, I guess. Both being from Harlan. You dated in high school?"

Raylan laughed, genuinely amused. "We did no such thing. Even had we been with it enough to speak of it back then, which we were not, the best we might have managed was a little sneaking around. Evarts High didn't have no GSA club. No, Boyd and I got together about four years after we left Harlan, separately. We were friends before we left though, when we were digging coal together."

"I see," she said. A long pause, and then she added, "His family is bad news."

"That they are," he replied. "Mine ain't any great shakes neither."

"They know about you?"

Raylan shrugged. "All I know for sure is Boyd's daddy does. I don't know he would've wanted that news spread around if he could help it, so maybe not. Guess they'll find out soon enough, we're heading down there."

Boyd was sitting on the bench outside the hotel's office, jiggling his knee. He stood when he saw them pull up, and scowled when he noticed Rachel in the passenger seat. He walked up and pulled open the back door. 

Rachel turned in her seat and said, "I'm so sorry about your brother. That's a terrible homecoming."

"Well, thank you, Deputy Brooks. I haven't been in touch for many years, but I admit that it has thrown me for a bit of a loop."

"It's Rachel, please. Hey, you want to ride up front? It's a one-time offer, just to let you know," Rachel said, smiling at Boyd.

"Oh, no ma'am," he replied, "I would never ask a lady to give up her seat."

Raylan rolled his eyes. "She's a federal marshal, she don't want to be treated like a lady when she's at work."

Rachel laughed. "I don't believe you know me well enough to make that statement."

"I'm fine back here," Boyd said. "I'll just be stewing in my own juices." 

Raylan asked Rachel some questions, idly fishing for gossip, but she was fairly tight-lipped and didn't give up much of anything. Then she turned it around and asked how Boyd and Art got to be such good buddies. 

"You wanna tell it, Boyd?"

"No, you go ahead. I'll chime in when you mess up."

Rachel gave Raylan a sidelong glance and said, "He always talk so sweet to you?"

"Ah, that's okay. Our love language is 'asshole.' So I went to Glynco to teach firearms after I left the Western District of Texas, which was my second post. At my _first_ post, Salt Lake, I was not open about my relationship with Boyd at work, for almost two years. Finally he got fed up and wouldn't shut the fuck up about it-"

"You're welcome," Boyd piped up from the back seat.

"-so I came out to my boss and a few other people I felt I could trust, and let them know I wanted to keep it quiet for the time being. I was young, and it was Salt Lake after all. Anyway, one of them gossipped, and it was all over the courthouse in a week. Which turned out to be surprisingly okay, and much less of a huge, terrifying big deal than I had feared."

Raylan unscrewed a bottle of Coke he'd picked up on the way over and took a long pull. 

"Did you get me one?" Boyd asked. 

"No, I'm a thoughtless shit," Raylan replied, reaching into the bag for the Dr. Pepper he'd bought. "Anyways, so when I got to Texas I was bound and determined to do it right. Whenever the opportunity presented itself - and you might be surprised at just how often it does - I took it. People ask you what your plans are, it's easy to say, 'me and my boyfriend are going hiking' or 'Boyd - that's my boyfriend - wants to see some movie.' So I had some butterflies in my tummy, but I did it anyway and it got easier the more times I did it. Until one time, I told someone and he said I was a disgusting deviant and he'd be informing our boss of the situation and requesting never to work with me."

"That's terrible," Rachel said. "I can't imagine you took it to heart, though."

"What he said? No, I didn't. But what bothered me was that I'd sort of forgotten people could be like that. Mostly, people are either totally fine with it, or they're polite enough not to reveal their true feelings to my face. And yeah, I can usually tell the difference, but I can live with that. This was something different."

"I wanted to kick that guy's ass so hard when he told me about that, but he wouldn't let me," Boyd said. 

Raylan snorted. "Yeah, 'cause having you in jail for assaulting a federal officer would've been totally worth it."

"What's this got to do with Art?" Rachel asked. "Not that I mind the story, it is a long drive to this backwoods paradise."

"Nothing directly," Raylan said, "but I just wanted you to know where my head was when I got to Glynco. This guy, this supposedly Christian gentleman, spent the next two years making my life shit at work. I might have had some recourse if I'd gone to my boss about it, but..." He glanced at Rachel. "You might have some idea why I didn't feel I could do that."

She looked at him and gave a hard sigh through her nose. "I might," she said. "You don't want people to think you're a crybaby and can't handle a little teasing. You don't want to be perceived as a _problem._ Or like you're looking for special treatment."

Raylan nodded. "Anyways. I never said anything. After two years of that shit, someone told my boss on my behalf, and she ended up quietly taking statements from everyone in the office, then having the guy transferred. The next year or so was okay, but it felt like...I felt set apart, after they had to all talk to her about what had happened, like they saw me as a victim. I sort of felt like one, like I couldn't stand up for myself."

"Which is bullshit," Boyd grumbled. 

"Obviously," Rachel said. "I get it, though. So that's why you took the Glynco post?"

"Yep. Fresh start and all that. And I wasn't about to hide anything there either, but the reception was actually worse- weirder, anyway- than in Texas. And weird for Boyd, too. You know, anywhere else we'd been, most of the people we socialized with were either my coworkers, or neighbors. Glynco's a small place, and a lot of people in the community are affiliated with the training facility. The culture there is pretty conservative, as you probably know. People weren't especially welcoming."

"What did they do?" Rachel asked. 

"Nothing you could put your finger on. Nothing outright mean or ugly. They just didn't include us in shit, and didn't talk to us if we did go to things together. When I was at work, on my own, people would talk to me, but...I don't know, it's hard to explain without sounding like I was being paranoid, but I know I wasn't. I heard they'd started referring to me and Boyd as Butch and Sundance. Which could have been okay, if it was said to my face, by friends. But it was behind our backs and fucking mean-spirited. It was possibly even worse for Boyd."

"I don't know about that," Boyd said, "but it was not a great time. The way things were there, most of the instructors were men, and the wives all hung out together. Now, perhaps a different sort of fag could have broken into that circle, but I've never been the type to give decorating advice and drink wine in the afternoon with the girls while dishing gossip."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Raylan murmured.

"No, of course not," Boyd said back, his lips quirking in a brief smile. "Anyhow, I had no interest in that. And there were a few husbands of instructors in the mix, but they felt uncomfortable around me. It was just a weird setup down there."

"I was getting ready to think about transferring, back to a field office," Raylan said. "Or even to start thinking about doing something else. I wasn't talking to anyone, I was so angry with the situation. I was good at my job, I liked the job itself, but it was getting hard to keep dealing with that shit. Art had always been decent to me, respectful, but I didn't trust him enough to let him be my friend. I felt like I couldn't count on anyone but myself at work. He tried to talk to me a few times, but I shut him down."

Raylan stopped talking for a bit and took a drink of soda, so Boyd picked up for him. "So one Saturday day I'm at home, changing the oil in Raylan's car while he's out buying groceries, and Art comes by. I bring him inside and offer him a drink, we sit down and he says, 'So how you boys doing?' And I honestly didn't mean to tell him anything, but over the course of the next several bourbons, I basically ended up telling him _everything._ How shitty things had been in Glynco, what had happened in Texas, how long we'd been together, how we'd met, and of course, how I got into the gun business."

"How did you?" Rachel asked.

"Another time," Boyd said. 

"So," Raylan continued, picking up the thread, "I get home and those two were shitfaced and cracking up in the living room. I assumed they were talking about me, which maybe they were and maybe they weren't, but I was just real happy that Boyd had found someone to talk to. And I figured, if Boyd wanted to trust him, then I would too. It was a relief. And he helped me out at work, I think. He never said anything, but the people who were being the biggest assholes started laying off, and a few people got friendlier, stopped treating me like a curiosity, and eventually we got in on a weekly poker game. We never really loved it there, but it ended up being okay, and that was all Art."

The story had taken awhile to tell, but they still had a ways to go before they got to Harlan. Rachel asked about Ava, but neither of them could tell her much.

"She was a sweet kid," Raylan said. "Real pretty. Everyone wanted a piece of that, but she was only 16 when we left town."

"She had it bad for Raylan," Boyd said. "She used to go to every single baseball game he played in."

"Ain't like I was the only player on the team," Raylan grumbled, but he knew Boyd was right. Ava hadn't been too subtle about her crush at the time, but she'd been too young for him. He wondered what she looked like now, after years of being married to Bowman Crowder. That was bound to drag anyone down.

"You really think your family will go after her in retribution for this?" Rachel asked.

"Well," Boyd said softly, "unless things have changed a great deal in the last twenty years, I'd have to say yes, I believe they would." He laughed quietly. "I don't know what the hell she's gonna think, she sees me turning up on her doorstep. If she even remembers me."

"She will," Raylan said, "You were my friend."

"That girl's gonna be so jealous of me," Boyd laughed.

Raylan took his eyes from the road to meet Boyd's in the mirror. He really couldn't tell how upset Boyd was about Bowman, or having to go to Harlan. "She ain't no girl anymore, Boyd, she's a 36 year old widow. I doubt I'm foremost on her list of concerns at the moment."

"Yeah," Boyd said, "you're right. When you leave a place, it's like it gets frozen in time in your mind, but of course everything changes by and by."

"Not everything, I bet," Raylan replied, a trifle grimly. “You don’t think she knows already, though, about us?”

“I highly doubt it, Raylan. Daddy would have wanted to keep that close to the vest. No way he’d be stupid enough to tell Bowman about it, so why would Ava know?”

Raylan drove in silence for a bit, then grinned in a slightly maniacal way. “This should be interesting, then.”


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava gets a surprise, then more visitors arrive.

It was dusk, heading into night, by the time they pulled up in front of Ava's house. Raylan turned around and said, "I'm sure you're fine, but let me and Rachel go in front. She might not want to see any Crowders, even one's been gone fifteen years."

Boyd nodded and said, "Makes sense."

Raylan got out and adjusted his hat, a big ass cowboy hat that Boyd had bought him as half a joke in San Antonio and then insisted he keep on while they fucked that same night. Boyd had cracked up when he'd worn it to work the next day, but Raylan loved it. 

They approached the door, and Rachel hung back a bit with Boyd as Raylan knocked. From inside, he heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked, and a woman's voice calling out, "Who's there? What's your business?"

"Federal Marshals," Raylan said. She opened the door with the chain still latched, and he held out his badge. "Ava, it's Raylan Givens. I'm with the Marshal Service now, and I'm here to check in on you. You know why."

She closed the door and pulled the chain off quickly, then opened it again and looked at him in astonishment for just a second before pitching forward, putting her hand to his shoulder and kissing him, softly but insistently. 

He heard Boyd's swiftly drawn breath behind him, and he blinked slowly, pushing her off of him in the gentlest way possible. "I'm sorry, Raylan. I don't know what got into me. Did you hear I got hit in the head?"

Boyd let out a choked-off laugh, and Ava turned sharply towards him. " _Boyd?_ What the fuck is goin' on here? Maybe I got hit harder'n I thought and I'm hallucinating."

Raylan took her elbow and said, "Ava, honey, let's go in and sit down, and we'll explain everything, okay? This here's Rachel Brooks, she works with me at the Lexington Marshal's office."

"Hey," Ava said, gesturing vaguely at Rachel. "Raylan, what the hell is this? How long have you been back in Kentucky? And why is Boyd..." She broke off, bewildered but also maybe starting to put the pieces together. "Where you been? Both of you?"

Raylan had pulled her into the sitting room and made her sit down. "Is there any liquor in the house, darlin'? I think we could all use a drink."

"Um," Rachel said. 

"Right," Raylan replied, "Well, Boyd and Ava could, in any case."

"In the sideboard, there."

Raylan pulled out two glasses and some Wild Turkey, pouring a small one for Ava and a somewhat more generous one for Boyd. He looked longingly at it, but figured it could wait 'til home. 

He handed them their drinks and sat down. "We only got back to Kentucky last week," he said, looking at her intently. "Me and Boyd." He glance over at Boyd, who gave him a quick nod. 

"Ava," Boyd began, "you remember at all how it was when I got back from Iraq?"

She nodded. "I guess I wasn't paying too much attention on account of being so wrapped up with Bowman, but I remember you seemed angry. And kind of sad."

"I was," Boyd said. "I didn't know what I was gonna do. I'd had the notion of going out on my own, but by the time I got back from the desert I could see how naive I'd been. Working for daddy...well, it seemed like my only option, and not a good one. You remember anything else from that time, sweetheart?"

"Well, you kept going out of town. Bowman said it was either for money or pussy, but even then I knew he wasn't smart enough to come up with that on his own. He must've heard the big man say it. Then one time you went and didn't come back."

Boyd tilted his head at her and gave her a little smile. Raylan knew she'd get it eventually, but it seemed easier to just explain. He started to do that, but she broke in with, "Did you and Raylan go into business together?" 

Raylan pressed his lips together, not wanting to laugh at her. It wasn't a measure of her intelligence that she hadn't figured it out. This was a very weird situation, all around. Boyd was similarly restraining himself, so the only laugh - a stifled snort - came from Rachel. 

"You laughing at me?" Ava asked sharply.

"No, Mrs. Crowder, I'm very sorry. It's just...no. I'm really not." Rachel straightened her face and looked at Raylan a bit sternly. He needed to tell her now.

"It wasn't money," he said. "It was the other thing. Uh, in a manner of speaking."

"A woman?" Ava asked, obviously confused. "But what's that got to do with you? Why are you two coming back here at the same..." Her face suddenly sagged and her mouth fell open. Raylan smiled encouragingly at her as understanding flooded her eyes. 

"You mean to tell me..." She stared at Raylan, who was now sorely wishing he hadn't brought Rachel along so he could have a drink.

"Boyd and I have been together since then, yeah. We started seeing each other when I was in Georgia doing my training, and then decided the distance was too much, so why not just move in together and see what happens. We were too young to know how stupid that was, which I guess was lucky because it somehow worked out."

It had been on Boyd's third trip to see him, that they'd made that decision. Boyd had brought a bunch of gay porn magazines and a book of dirty stories about men having sex with each other, and they'd spent the weekend trying a bunch of different things. Raylan had blushed like crazy when he saw all that stuff, but it made his dick hard, and the thought of trying them with Boyd made it slightly hard to breathe.

They'd ceased to be shy about sex around each other, but they were still hesitant about showing affection. They did it sometimes, when they were going to sleep and the lights were out, but mostly they only touched when they were having sex or just about to. 

On the last day of that visit, they'd been fooling around in the afternoon, just before Boyd was to leave. Boyd was on top of him, kissing him insistently as he jerked both of them off. After they both came, Boyd collapsed on top of him for a second, then started to roll off to the side. Raylan grabbed him around his torso and held him there tightly. He rolled them both over and kissed Boyd again, then again, then pulled back to really look at him.

"I don't want you to keep leaving," he said, in a scratchy, husky, almost-whisper. "I want more of you than I get. I want you every day."

Boyd had stared back with wide eyes and said, "You don't think the novelty would wear off and you'd get sick of me?"

Raylan shook his head slowly, still holding his gaze. "It ain't novelty, Boyd, don't you know that? I love you. You're my boy. I want you to stay with me."

Boyd whispered back, "No, I didn't know. Not- not like that. Not really." He looked really scared. 

Raylan had said those things on an impulse, and now he regretted letting them leave his mouth. What if Boyd didn't feel that way? Maybe he'd never come back again. "It's okay, you don't have to-"

"I will," Boyd said suddenly. "I will stay, Raylan. I need to get a few things from home, but I'll come back and I'll get a job here and I'll stay."

Now it was Raylan who felt a little scared. He didn't really want the responsibility that came with asking someone else to change their whole life in such a massive way. "Are you sure?" he asked. 

"I'm terrified, Raylan. But I want it so bad. And I love you too. And we'll work it out. One thing, though."

"What?"

"If I'm your boy, can you be mine too?"

Raylan grinned. "I sure as shit hope so."

"Good, because when I come back I'm gonna really make you mine." 

Raylan had felt a little nervous hearing that, but the fact that Boyd was going to come back and stay was enough to tamp that down pretty hard. He kissed him again and said, "I'll do whatever you want, you just have to tell me."

Sitting in Ava's living room, Raylan realized that had turned out to be more or less true. Boyd usually didn't take advantage of it, but Raylan really didn't like to refuse him things that he actually asked for. Boyd had given him so many things that he hadn't even been aware that he'd needed. 

"So you two have been... _together_ , ever since Boyd left Harlan?"

"That's right," Boyd said. "I stayed with Raylan until his training was over, then moved to Utah with him when he got his first post. After that, Texas, then back to Georgia, then Miami where we bought our first house. Now we're back in Kentucky. Just in time for all hell to break loose, it appears."

"So you're like...married." Ava was shaking her head, not in disbelief, but at least in wonder.

"Like that, yes," Boyd replied. 

"Does anyone else know? From here?"

"Daddy does, but if you haven't heard any rumors, I have to assume he didn't tell nobody."

Ava had a hand over her mouth, and Raylan could see it was now covering up a huge grin. He couldn't blame her. That was kind of the way he felt about it sometimes, even now.

He looked at Boyd and raised his eyebrows, and Boyd gave him a single nod and settled back into the couch. 

"Ava, we're gonna stay here overnight, see if anyone tries anything," Raylan said. Rachel made a noise of protest, and Raylan turned to her. "Listen, it's fine. You can head on back, and Ava can give us a ride back to the city in the morning."

"Art will kill you, Raylan."

"I'll call him," he assured her. "It's fine. We got some catching up to do, and she really should have someone here right now. Ava, you got a spare room?"

She let out a short gasping laugh and said, "Sure, Raylan. I got a bed for you and Boyd." Raylan just nodded. She'd get used to it eventually. 

"Raylan, this is a bad idea," Rachel said. 

"It might be," Raylan conceded, "but I'm doing it. It's not on you."

"Well it is, kind of," she said, showing a hint of a temper he hadn't glimpsed up to that point. 

"I'll take full responsibility. Art knows how stubborn I can be, he won't blame you."

Rachel sighed and stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said. "Nice meeting you, Mrs. Crowder. Good luck with everything."

"Thank you," Ava said, a little sharply. She was still annoyed about the laugh, Raylan assumed. 

Raylan walked Rachel to the door and made sure she knew how to get out of the holler. When he came back, Boyd had Ava's hand in his and they were talking quietly. He got himself a drink and brought it over to the sofa, settling down on the other side of her. 

She was saying, "I don't know how I let it go on so long. I guess it started so slow, just once in awhile, but by the time it got to the point it was at this morning, I- it had been getting so much worse, and I truly thought-"

"Alright," Boyd said. It was quiet, but she stopped speaking immediately. "I believe you. You'll forgive me if I ain't quite ready to hear too many details just yet. That don't mean you can never tell me, just not tonight."

"Sure," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "Boyd, I'm real sorry about this. I never- and shit, I'm so sorry for kissing your- your boyfriend."

Boyd smiled at her. "That's okay, sweetheart, you ain't the first girl I seen him kiss. And you didn't know. Probably should be the only time though. That would be a little too complicated, I reckon." 

"Jesus, Boyd," Raylan said, rolling his eyes. "Let her get used to one thing at a time."

"You don't mean you...what do you mean?" Ava had turned to Raylan now, frowning hard.

Raylan shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you know," he said, "Uh, we both like women. So on occasion..." He was blushing now, and Boyd was covering up a grin of his own.

"I get it. God...okay. I guess you got it all sorted out, then." Ava was blushing too, and couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Yeah, that would be, um. Yes, complicated." She laughed, and then her expression turned slightly horrified. "You said Bo knows? Oh my god, does he know you're back?"

"Not that we are aware," Boyd said. "I imagine he'll know soon enough, though. Ava, do you know who else is in tight with him?"

"Johnny," she said. "You know he only trusts family."

Boyd nodded. "Well, I suppose I'll need to speak with dear cousin Johnny, then. I'll call him tomorrow."

Ava finished her drink and set it down. "You boys want supper? I was gonna make ham and yams tonight. No use letting it go to waste."

"You don't have to put yourself out," Raylan began, but Ava waved a hand at him. 

"Hush, boy. You two can come into the kitchen and keep me company while I cook. I want to hear some stories about what you been up to." She blushed again, then added quickly, "I mean, where you been living and all."

Boyd grabbed the bottle and brought it to the kitchen. They sat at the table and told her their story. She told them, in turn, some of the things that had been happening in Harlan. Boyd had a couple more drinks, but Raylan cut himself off after his second because he felt uneasy. 

"Raylan," Ava said, turning away from the stove to look at him, "Did you hear about Helen and Arlo?"

Raylan frowned deeply. "I haven't spoken to Arlo since I left Harlan. Last time I heard from Helen was in the letter she wrote to tell me my mama had passed. What do you mean, 'Helen and Arlo'?"

"They got married."

Raylan was stunned into silence, and he just sat there blinking for a few moments. Boyd reached across the table and slid his hand over Raylan's, grasping it and rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. 

"I'm sorry," Ava said, glancing at their joined hands, "I should have realized what a shock it would be."

Raylan shook his head. "I thought that woman was smarter than that. Jesus fucking Christ." He sighed. "I'd like to call her, but that means calling that house."

"You're gonna have to deal with the man eventually, baby," Boyd said. "Might as well get it over with quick."

"I guess," Raylan mumbled. 

"You two sure are cute," Ava said, leaning back against the counter and smiling softly at them. "I never would've imagined the pair of you holding hands and calling each other 'baby.' The fucking don't surprise me that much though." She grinned, then turned back to the stove and started spooning greens into a bowl. "Can you boys start bringing stuff out to the dining room?"

They got up right away and did her bidding, eager to dig into what looked and smelled like a delicious meal. Raylan excused himself to use the bathroom, and after he pissed, he washed his hands and stood looking at himself in the mirror for a minute. He was still thinking about Helen, about how she could have made that decision. Christ, Arlo was gonna throw a shitfit about him and Boyd. Boyd was right, he should get it over with, maybe even call tonight. 

He realized he'd been in the can way longer than necessary, so he dried his hands and left, flipping off the switch on the way out. 

He was so distracted, walking back into the dining room, that at first all he saw was Boyd at the head of the table. He looked so good in the warm light and very serious, so Raylan smiled at him. 

In the second that followed, several things happened. Raylan heard a noise, just a tiny one, choked off abruptly, behind him. He spun around to find Ava being held by some fat ass redneck with a red beard, a gun pressed to her back. Next to them was a man who looked a great deal like Boyd's cousin Johnny Crowder, except he'd lost the bit of hard, hillbilly appeal he'd once had, and now he just looked rough. He had a 9mm out, which he raised quickly as Raylan turned. 

Raylan pulled and had his own weapon aimed at Johnny in a fraction of a second. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he wished he could look at Boyd just then. Boyd loved to watch him draw, said it turned him on to watch him do something so perfectly. 

"Johnny," Raylan said, as calmly as if he'd run into him at the market. "This all seems a tad unnecessary, don't you think?"

Johnny's jaw dropped once he got a good look at Raylan and heard him speak. " _Givens?_ What in the name of Christ are _you_ doing here?"

“I’m a Deputy U.S. Marshal now,” Raylan said, “and as such, I suggest you lower your weapon. I’d further suggest that your friend there take his out of Ava’s back and let her go. I know you ain’t thinking of shooting a federal officer tonight, Johnny.”

Johnny swallowed, then nodded at his partner before beginning to slowly lower the gun and put it back in his pants. “You still didn’t answer my question though. Why are you here?”

“Came to check up on Miss Ava. Heard she might have some trouble from the Crowder clan. And Boyd felt he had to come down here, so I really had no choice. I had to have his back.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes at him. “Ain’t seen hide nor hair of you in twenty years, Givens. Ain’t seen Boyd in nearly as long. Suddenly you and him show up down here together, the day Bowman gets killed? That don’t seem like it could be any kind of coincidence. What the fuck is going on?”

"It is and it ain't," Raylan said. "A coincidence, I mean. Bowman getting killed, we just found that out this afternoon. Us coming back here at the same time, that's very easily explained."

Johnny scowled. "So explain, asshole."

Raylan suddenly felt extremely irritated. "You come here where you ain't invited, wave guns around and start demanding explanations? Fuck you, Johnny Crowder."

"Raylan's my boyfriend," Boyd blurted. "My partner."

Johnny stared dumbly at him, clearly stunned. "What?"

"It ain't all that complicated, cousin," Boyd said. "When I left Harlan for good, I went to Raylan. I stayed with him. I plan to always stay with him. I love him. Where he goes, I go, that's how it is."

Johnny's mouth was twisted up like he'd smelled something bad. His partner guffawed loudly and said, "Aw, he's fucking with you, man."

"No, he ain't. Are you, Boyd?" Johnny asked, in a dull tone like he knew just what the answer would be.

"No," Boyd replied, calm as anything. "Come on, Johnny. Don't pretend to be more surprised than you are."

"Jesus fuckin'... _gross._ The hell?" Johnny was shaking his head back and forth like he could make it not true, or at least make himself not know it. "Givens, you really telling me you'd rather screw _him_ then someone like her?" he asked, gesturing at Ava.

"It ain't your business who I do or do not want to screw, Johnny Crowder. But it's Boyd I love, and I personally couldn't give two shits what you think of it. And really, 'it's gross?' What are you, twelve?"

"I can't fucking believe you're both just...telling me this, like you think it's just fine, you ain't even trying to hide it, it's like you want everyone to know you're fags!" Johnny looked more dismayed than angry, though anger might not be far off. 

"It is fine, dumb ass," Raylan said, "and why would we try to hide it? For that matter, how? How would we do that? I think the world moved on from believing in middle-aged bachelor roommates sometime late in the last century. As far as wanting everyone to know, well where you're concerned I personally don't care either way, but Boyd feels different about it. You're his family, so in my mind and his, you're mine too. Cousin."

"You watch your goddamn mouth, boy," he snarled, and Boyd made what might have been an involuntary movement toward him. 

The fat thug reached for his gun, but Johnny held out a hand and said, "Take it easy, Shawn. We're just talkin'. Christ." He glared at Raylan. "You supposedly love him, but you drag him back here? What you think his daddy's gonna do when he hears about this shit?"

Raylan had no answer for that. He did feel like shit about forcing Boyd to come back to Kentucky, but he wasn't about to admit to that just then. Johnny could mind his own damn business. 

"Daddy already knows," Boyd said. "I told him ten years ago."

"Shit," Johnny spat. "So I guess you really were done with the family, then."

"That was not my intention," Boyd said, very quietly. "If I had truly been done, I wouldn't have bothered."

"You been gone what, fifteen years? More? Left all your responsibilities behind, left your family. You think Bowman would be dead now if you'd stayed? You think Ava would be sitting here with this debt to be paid? You left your brother to turn into what he did, and don't think I don't know she had cause for what she did." 

Johnny paused, breathing hard and clearly very angry. Raylan wasn't sure where this strong emotion was coming from. He couldn't imagine Johnny had missed Boyd that much.

"Don't mean she won't have to pay," he continued, "but she was getting her own back, everyone fucking knows it, even Bo, though he'd never say. Maybe this ain't all on you, Boyd, but some of it is, and for what? So you could get fucked in the ass by _Raylan Givens,_ for gods sake? That is way beyond fucked up, cousin."

Boyd was looking at Johnny, and his face was so sad. If he'd been close enough, he'd have reached for Boyd's hand and fuck Johnny Crowder, but he wasn't. But Boyd was strong, and he could be plenty hard when he needed to, which he sometimes did because of the kind of people he came into contact with. They had to think he was one of them if he wanted them to buy from him. They were a sensitive lot, that way.

"You can't put that on Boyd," Raylan said through clenched teeth. "He made a choice for himself, just like you could have, Johnny, or Bowman, or even Ava here, which I guess is what she finally ended up doing. Just because we were born in this shithole, don't mean we gotta play out some pre-determined tragedy."

Johnny sneered and shook his head. "That's just you trying to make him feel better. He knows. He knows. He abandoned this family. And he couldn't even let that be enough, he's gotta come back here, trailing behind his fucking lawman boyfriend and bringing shame and humiliation on the name. Family obviously don't mean shit to him."

Raylan opened his mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up, but Boyd spoke first, saying quietly, "I regret the pain I've caused my father and brother, and you, cousin, and the damage that might have been done by my leaving. Raylan said I made a choice, but I honestly didn't feel I had one to make. Staying here would have killed my soul, and most likely my body at an early age. I left because I had to."

Raylan had had enough. "You can fuck off now, Johnny. Go on now, go tell Bo that the Marshals office is taking an interest in Ava's well-being."

Johnny let out an ugly laugh. "The Marshal's office, okay. I'll tell him Deputy Raylan told me."

"Do that," Raylan said. "Tell him I said hey, and I'll be in touch about Thanksgiving."

Johnny stared at him for a few seconds, then said, "You shoulda never came back here. I'd lay odds neither one of you is making it back out." He turned and stalked toward the door, followed by his galumphing associate. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Boyd slumped, almost like he'd been holding his breath the whole time. Raylan crossed the room quickly and stood next to where Boyd sat, laying a hand on his shoulder. Boyd reached up to hold him by the waist, and leaned his forehead into Raylan's stomach. 

"Not a single word of that meant shit, Boyd," Raylan said, low and angry. "Every bit of that was intended to hurt you, and to no other purpose."

Boyd moved his head back and forth, still buried in Raylan's torso. "It hurt because it was true. Not all true, but true enough I can't just dismiss it. I left them. Left Bowman to his own judgment and Daddy's, which I knew was a dangerous combination. Ava here suffered years of abuse because I wasn't here to interv-"

"How do you know you would have?" Ava asked sharply. Boyd picked up his head and looked at her. 

"Excuse me?"

Ava shrugged. "You think you woulda helped me, 'cause the man you are now would help me. But you weren't so nice back then, Boyd. You were kind of a sumbitch, as I recall. Maybe because you were unhappy, I can't say, but the boy I knew then woulda probably just laughed that shit off. Leaving here made you better. Maybe _he_ made you better. Point is, staying here mighta only made things worse for everyone. You can't know."

Boyd opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again and gave her a funny sort of look. "You're right, I wasn't such a gentleman to you, honey. I had forgotten. I sincerely apologize."

"You boys help me with the clearing up, then we'll have another drink, then I'm off to bed. It's been a hell of a day."

"We'll do it, you just set down and have your drink in the kitchen," Raylan said. "You can catch us up on gossip."

Ava giggled. "You two are gonna be the gossip come tomorrow. You tell me. What are you doing for work now, Boyd? I take it you ain't a Marshal too."

Boyd smiled and launched into a description of what his job selling barely legal firearms to nut jobs actually entailed, while Raylan scrubbed a pot and Boyd emptied the dish drainer. They told her some stories about the places they'd lived, and Boyd sounded almost choked up when he talked about their house in Miami. It made Raylan feel like shit, but he couldn't be pissed at him. Boyd had been really good through this whole ordeal. 

Raylan stopped talking after awhile, thinking about how supportive Boyd had been, and how that sort of made Raylan feel shittier about what had happened. Boyd should have yelled at him, at least. Finally, Boyd seemed to notice, and he said he thought they should get some sleep since they had to drive to Lexington so early. 

Before she went to her room, Ava gave them a smile that looked like she maybe wanted to cry, and said, "Thanks for coming to check on me. I'm glad you boys came home. Even if you ain't."


	9. Nine

Upstairs, in the spare bedroom, they shed their clothes and pressed close in the bed, which was much smaller than what they were accustomed to. It reminded Raylan of their first apartment, which had come furnished with a double bed and some clean but well-worn furniture. 

Boyd pushed some hair out of Raylan's eyes and looked closely at him. "You got real quiet downstairs."

Raylan closed his eyes and leaned his head into Boyd's shoulder. "The one thing Johnny said that wasn't a load of shit was that I never should have dragged you back here. I'm so sorry, Boyd."

"Baby," Boyd huffed, "you already said that a bunch of times. You didn't drag me anywhere. I chose to come here with you."

"Oh really," Raylan returned. "You could have chosen different? There was a chance you might've stayed behind?"

"No, Raylan, and that's kind of the point. I said to Johnny, and I'll say it again to you if you somehow don't get it yet. I go where you go. I plan to always stay with you. Because I want to, because I love you. You think I'd let this place destroy what we've made, all on our own, over the last fifteen years?"

"No. I know you wouldn't. But what if- what if it does anyhow? You know what Art said? He said nothing fucks with your relationship like family shit does. And between you and me, we got it up to our damn eyeballs in this place."

"We'll be fine. I promise. Come on, now, this is getting boring."

Raylan lifted up his head and pressed forward, slowly and heavily, and gave him a kiss that lasted for a long time. There was a lot he could say, that he was feeling, but it all shit that Boyd already knew. 

Boyd responded to the kiss in kind, but didn't go further or indicate he wanted anything more. Raylan had figured he wouldn't want to after the evening they'd had, but still he asked, "You want me to blow you? It's the least I could do."

"I'm honestly not sure I could get it up at the moment - and no, that wasn't a challenge. Let's just turn out the light and try to get some sleep."

"Alright," Raylan said, and reached over to switch off the lamp before kissing him again. "I love you, Boyd Crowder."

"Aww," Boyd said, with an audible smirk. "That's sweet, honey, and I love you too, but could you maybe give me a couple inches of space? I feel like I'm about to fall off the edge of the bed." He shoved at Raylan to get him to move over. 

"I got no space to give you, man," Raylan said irritably. "Quit pushing. Bed's small."

"You must have some room over there."

"Nope."

Boyd sighed hard and turned on his side away from Raylan. Raylan spooned up against his back and wrapped an arm around him.

"It's not like either of us got fat," Boyd said, "so why does it seem like there's so much less room in this bed than when we had that double back in Salt Lake?"

Raylan grinned. "I was thinking the exact same thing. I guess we were a little scrawnier, probably, but I think we mostly got spoiled. We didn't know what we were missing, and we were just so damn happy to be together and not in Harlan."

"'M still damn happy," Boyd said, his words muffled by the quilt he had pulled up to his face. "But I admit to being a bit spoiled. I like being comfortable. Remember that shithole apartment?"

Raylan smiled and conjured it up in his mind. They hadn't been able to afford anything better on Raylan's starting salary, and they didn't know how long it would take for Boyd to find a job. Neither of them were much accustomed to domesticity, Boyd having grown up in a house of men who didn't care about such things, and Raylan having grown up with a mother who would never have thought to teach him. 

When Boyd had moved to be near Raylan, who stayed on campus at Glynco, he'd rented a single room in a house, like some old timey traveling salesman. Raylan would come and stay over sometimes, but they didn't like to do that too often because of the looks they'd get from Boyd's somewhat creepy fellow boarders. 

They'd been looking forward to getting their place together for what felt to them - at their young age - like a very long time. They had placed a lot of stock in it, like it was going to be smooth sailing after that.

They'd been remarkably unconcerned - oblivious, really - about the difficulties they might face, learning to be a couple, to share the responsibilities of a life together. What they had mostly been thinking about was sex. They were looking forward, anxiously, to having the time and most of all privacy, to figure out how to do all the things that men do with each other. 

They experimented, watched some porn that Boyd had somehow worked up the nerve to buy, and they got better at what they'd been doing, but there was that one thing that they had been too nervous to try, which seemed like something they should at least try.

Raylan figured it was okay, they did a lot of stuff together that they both liked, and if they got antsy like they wanted to fuck someone, they could probably manage to pick up another girl. They'd gotten one almost by accident, after all. He wondered if he might feel jealous now, if they tried that again, or if Boyd might, but thinking about it made his dick too hard to think about any other feelings that might arise. 

Boyd felt differently about the subject of that one thing, though. He didn't push for it, but he didn't really let it go either. He'd only brought it up a few times, but he was always touching Raylan there, or rubbing off on him like that. One time he even one time went there with his mouth, which made Raylan come like a fucking volcano, and then he'd felt weird about it until Boyd convinced him it was totally something people do. 

One night, a Friday, they'd gone for a rare dinner out. Just Chinese, but for them at that time, it was an extravagance. They'd gone for drinks after, too, at a bar near their place that was running a dollar well shot special. They'd come home drunk and laughing, and Boyd had pulled him into the bedroom, undressing him and kissing him, looking at him with easy, laughing eyes. They'd been so in love. 

"I want to, Raylan," Boyd had said, "Can I? I'll go slow."

"Whatever you want, Boyd. I'll do it if you want it." 

They had what they thought was a basic knowledge of what to do, and Boyd took his time with things, but when he actually got started, Raylan hadn't been prepared at all for just how painful it was. He'd gritted his teeth and tried to get through it, but he'd been unable to hold back a pained gasp.

"Does it hurt real bad?" Boyd had asked, freezing immediately. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I'm sorry. But yeah, okay, please. Stop."

Boyd had pulled out slowly and laid down next to him. He'd wiped Raylan's sweaty face with the sheet and kissed him lightly. "Don't let me hurt you, okay? That ain't what I want. Not ever."

"I want to do this for you. We must be missing something. Other guys like it."

Boyd nodded thoughtfully. "We need a mentor. Someone to teach us how to, like, be gay."

Raylan laughed. "I thought we were figuring most of that out okay on our own. We don't have to be anyone else's idea of what that is. We could use a little guidance with this, I guess. But wouldn't that be pretty weird? Like...if we picked up a guy and then...what? He tells you what to do?"

Boyd looked a little uncomfortable, but said, "Well, I guess I was thinking, he would do it. So you could see what it's like when someone does it who knows what the hell he's doing. And I could watch, so I know what to do."

Raylan stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You want me to let some total stranger fuck me in the ass while you watch. For 'educational purposes.'"

"Obviously he'd be using protection, so-"

"Jesus, I didn't even think of that. Boyd, I don't know." 

"Okay, forget it, then," Boyd said hastily. "Don't even think on it." 

"Boyd, I ain't saying no for sure, I just-"

"Raylan, honestly. It's alright. I would never try to push you into doing something like that. I shouldn't have been so...so casual about it. It ain't the same thing as that girl. It's a lot to ask of you, and even if we never figure out how to do it, I don't care. I don't need it."

Raylan had pulled him in close and kissed him on the side of the face, and they'd fallen asleep. The next day, Raylan had tried not to think about what Boyd had said, but his mind kept coming back to it, turning around it. 

Boyd was working an evening shift, so Raylan ate two bowls of cereal for dinner and watched the news, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. Finally, annoyed with himself, he'd switched off the tv and tried to imagine himself with some random guy. 

The image his brain presented to him was a man he'd apprehended the week before, some guy who'd killed a cashier during a robbery in Arizona. That had given him pause - he hadn't been aware of any attraction at the time, and it was kind of weird - but he'd shrugged it off. 

He saw himself in some dark place, an alley maybe, pushed up against a wall while the guy kissed his neck and reached around to unbutton his pants. He struggled to get away, but not too hard. Again, some part of his mind went _really? what the fuck_ , and again, he ignored it. He unzipped and pulled his dick out. 

He came before his fantasy got to the point of actually being fucked, but it was enough to tell him that maybe Boyd had been on to something. When he heard Boyd come in the front door an hour later, he started grinning in anticipation of telling him all about it. He spun out the whole thing again, out loud, while Boyd sucked his cock and put his fingers in him. 

Raylan knew where there was a small cluster of gay bars from riding around with one of his coworkers. His partner Jim had pointed them out in passing, but Raylan had made a mental note, not even really knowing why at the time. He hadn't pictured him and Boyd actually going there. It hadn't occurred to him they'd need to pick up a guy, since they had each other, but that way of thinking already seemed kind of dumb to him. It wasn't like they ever _needed_ to pick up a girl either. 

"Hey Boyd," Raylan said, his voice sounding loud even to his own ears in the quiet of Ava's guest bedroom. Boyd's body jerked suddenly in Raylan's arms. 

"Jesus, I was right on the fucking edge of sleep, man. What the fuck."

Raylan squeezed him around the waist and kissed his shoulder. "Sorry. I was just thinking about that first apartment, and then that got me thinking about some other first things." He breathed against the back of Boyd's neck and smiled when he shivered. 

"Oh yeah? Anything in particular?" Boyd asked, clearly grinning now as well. "There were quite a few."

"What was that guy's name? Kenneth?"

"Dennis." Boyd snorted. "I would have thought you'd remember, that being such a momentous occasion for you."

They'd found a spot in a corner of the club so they could check people out. It felt a little weird, being in a place with so many people but no women. 

"See anyone you like?" Boyd asked him.

Raylan shrugged a little uncomfortably. "I don't know. I've never really thought about what kind of guys I like. Usually it was you I'd think about."

"Well, I ain't asking for a list of preferred qualities, Raylan. Just look around and see if anyone looks okay. I'll go get us drinks."

Raylan watched him approach the bar, flash the bartender a big grin and say something as he held up two fingers. He thought maybe he'd be able to find another guy in here that he could find sexy, but no one stood out like Boyd. He just drew your attention. 

Apparently Raylan wasn't the only one who thought so, because he noticed a man a few barstools down checking Boyd out. He was a nice looking guy, dressed in jeans and a dark shirt, with golden-brown hair that was short on the sides and sort of floppy on top. He looked maybe a little older than them, but not by much, and he kept his eyes on Boyd as he walked back to where Raylan was standing.

"I think maybe I found someone," Raylan said, taking the glass from his hand. 

Boyd's eyebrows shot up. "That was quick. I only had to leave you alone in a gay bar for five minutes before you found someone else? I ain't sure just how I feel about that."

Raylan rolled his eyes. "This was your idea, asshole." He squinted at Boyd. "You were joking, right? 'Cause you know you're the only one I-" He stopped talking because Boyd was laughing. "Right. Okay." He felt suddenly peevish and wasn't even sure why. He wondered briefly if he'd maybe wanted Boyd to be jealous, at least just a little. 

"Raylan, thank you," Boyd said. Raylan huffed and looked around the room. "I mean it. Don't mind me acting like a shit. You were right to ask me. We should always make sure."

Raylan nodded. "Okay."

"So who is it? The guy?"

Raylan gestured towards the bar. "That dude over there with the shiny hair, blue shirt."

Boyd looked in that direction and smiled. "Yeah, I saw him when I was getting our drinks." He nodded approvingly. "Why him?"

Raylan shrugged. "He likes you."

Boyd frowned and said, "That's it? Because he was checking me out?"

"Well I mean, he's cute, right? He's a cute guy. But Boyd, I don't know. There's a lot of handsome guys here. It's hard to pick, how am I supposed to know who's the right one? Do you not like him or something? Maybe you prefer that kid over there with the body glitter and lip gloss, huh? Ain't that your type?"

Boyd narrowed his eyes. "Quit smirking. And sure, I like that boy just fine, Raylan. You want to tell me there's something wrong with that?"

"No," Raylan replied, slightly shamefaced. 

"But the guy you picked, he looks good. Like he might know what the fuck he's doing. You want me to go talk to him?"

"Okay." Raylan leaned in real quick and kissed him. "Okay, go ahead." He felt an excitement building in the pit of his stomach. 

Boyd sauntered over and leaned against the bar near the man, smiling and gesturing with his fingers. Raylan couldn't believe how confident he looked, doing this, just like that first night in the bar with Sage. Boyd put his hand on the guy's arm and leaned in to say something close to his ear. The guy suddenly jerked his head up in surprise, then both of them turned toward where Raylan was standing. 

Raylan didn't know how to react, but he knew he'd probably look like an idiot if he tried to smile, so he just sipped the bourbon Boyd had given him and leaned back against the wall. The guy's face broke into a grin and he said something to Boyd, who nodded. 

They were walking over, and Raylan took a deep breath. The man really was nice-looking, and now Raylan could see that he had blue eyes. 

Boyd had his hand resting on the guy's back as they walked over, which, for some reason that Raylan couldn't fathom, turned him on. He wanted to feel what the man's back felt like too, under his silky-looking shirt. He thought it might be warm. 

Boyd walked up and let his hand slide away from where it had been, positioning himself so he stood halfway between Raylan and the other man. "This is Dennis," he said.

Raylan held out his hand, and Dennis shook it with apparent amusement. "I'm Raylan," he said. "Nice to meet you."

"That is a very formal greeting from someone whose boyfriend just asked me to fuck him," Dennis said, a smile dancing on his lips. 

Raylan blushed, but held his gaze. "Maybe it don't feel like such a casual thing to me," he replied. 

Dennis looked between them. "Listen, I can't say this doesn't sound like a great offer, but I gotta admit it makes me a little nervous. I don't know you two at all."

Raylan nodded. It made sense. They could easily be trying to lure him out to rob him, or maybe just beat the shit out of him for being a fag. Lord knew that kind of thing wasn't unheard of. This guy was more sensible than Sage had been.

"Would it make you feel better or worse if I told you I was a federal marshal?" he asked. "I could show you my star and everything."

Dennis' eyes went wide, and he said, "Uh, you probably shouldn't do that here. Badges make people nervous." He frowned, thought for a moment, then sighed. "Well, what the hell. Either I'll get killed or I'll have a great night. Sometimes you got to roll the dice, right?"

Boyd clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Now you're talkin'. You want to come back to our place or go to yours?"

"Our place is kind of a dump, in case that makes a difference," Raylan put in. "And the bed's only a double."

"Mine then, I suppose," Dennis said. "Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? I'm probably about to become another unfortunate statistic."

"No, man, we're alright, really," Raylan said sincerely. "We're a little stupid about this, is all, so we're probably acting weird."

Dennis laughed and shook his head. "Good lord," he said. "Okay, then. Come on. Do you have a car?"

"Yeah, you need a ride?" Boyd asked, in an eager way that even Raylan thought was funny. This guy probably thought they were idiots. 

"No, I drove here," Dennis replied. "You can follow me."

He showed them where he'd parked his car, a black Civic, and waited until they pulled up behind him and flashed the lights. 

They started following him, Raylan at the wheel, Boyd asked, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" 

"Yeah," Raylan said. "If you do."

Boyd grinned. "We're gonna have a lot of fun, Raylan. Don't you think?"

"I hope so. He seems cool, I guess."

"No, I mean, you and me. Together. We get to do all sorts of fun shit together. Whatever we feel like."

Raylan glanced over at him, and he was looking back, smiling. He looked like he was trying to say something important, but Raylan wasn't sure how to tell him he got it. "Yep," he said. "I love you."

Boyd slid over close on the bench seat of the truck and rested his hand on Raylan's leg, and Raylan put his arm around his shoulders. They rode the rest of the way without talking. 

About fifteen minutes later, Dennis pulled into the driveway of a small house just outside of the city. Raylan parked the truck behind him and got out, checking out his surroundings. It was quiet there, in an ordinary neighborhood, the front yard landscaped with succulents and rocks, mostly. 

"Nice place," Boyd said as Dennis unlocked the front door.

Dennis shrugged. "It's a rental. I'm only here for two years, thank God. Contract work." He paused as he opened the door and let them in. "Uh, no offense. If you're from here."

"Do we sound like we're from here?" Raylan laughed. 

Dennis threw his keys in a dish and walked through to the living room. "Not really. Don't act like it either," he said. "You guys want a beer or something?"

They both said sure, and stood around awkwardly in the living room while he got three bottles from the kitchen. "Why don't you sit down, huh?" He looked at Raylan. "Relax, okay? Nothing's going to happen until you're ready."

Raylan hadn't been aware that he looked nervous, but he supposed he must have. Now that they were here, reality was setting in. "Yeah, man, I'm alright." He tried giving his cockiest grin, but Dennis only snorted at him. 

Raylan sat down on the smaller sofa, expecting Boyd to join him, but Boyd sat in the adjacent armchair and leaned back, crossing his legs. He didn't look nervous at all, but then again he wasn't the one about to have sex with some guy he didn't even know. 

Dennis gave Boyd some kind of look, like he was trying to figure him out, then sat next to Raylan. "So," he said, "Raylan. You really a Marshal? Like in the old west? I'm not even sure I knew those still existed."

Raylan reached into his pants and pulled out the little leather folder that held his star. He handed it to Dennis, who looked it over with interest before handing it back. 

"Raylan Givens," he said. "Catch a lot of outlaws?"

"Caught one," Raylan said, and Boyd laughed. 

"I ain't so much an outlaw as I come from a long line of them," Boyd said. "Course, so does he."

"That I do," Raylan said. He felt better now, now they were on a familiar topic. "Outlaws and coal miners. Boyd and I decided neither life was for us."

"So you're from, what, Appalachia? Like West Virginia or something?"

"Kentucky," Boyd said. "We worked in the mine for a spell after high school, but Raylan took off for college shortly after a bad cave-in, and I left for the armed forces."

Dennis was sort of staring at him. "You worked in a mine together?"

"Fell in love in a mine," Boyd said, looking at him intensely. Raylan smiled to himself. Maybe Boyd was a little bit jealous after all. "That's serious business, son."

"I believe you," Dennis replied. "If you're so in love, why are you so anxious for him to fuck someone else?"

Boyd cleared his throat. "Me and Raylan, most of our experience has been of the heterosexual variety. We don't really...we've been together about half a year, but before that neither of us had ever..."

"We've only fucked women," Raylan said flatly. "We don't know what the hell we're doing with each other. Sucking cock ain't that hard to figure out, and we do okay, but we haven't really been successful with, uh, that one thing."

Dennis was frowning in a perplexed sort of way. "Okay...so you're telling me this is your first time?"

"More or less?" Raylan said, hesitating. "We tried, but it didn't go all that well. We reckoned maybe if we met someone who had some experience, you know. Shit, I know how weird this must be for you. Honestly, we don't know what we're doing. So if you don't want to-"

Dennis held up his hand, so Raylan stopped talking. "That's what this is? You want me to teach him how to fuck you?" Raylan nodded, not knowing what he could really say. "Well," Dennis said, laughing to himself. "I guess I don't mind doing that." He leaned close to Raylan. Raylan didn't know what to do except kiss him, so he did that.

"You smell real nice," Raylan said, feeling a little dazed. 

"Thank you," Dennis said. "You're lovely." He looked over at Boyd and asked, "Are you sure?"

Boyd nodded and said, "I don't need to worry about anything."

Dennis smiled for real then, like he was glad about something. "Okay, then, beautiful boys, let's go. You're not just going to watch, though, are you Boyd?"

Boyd blinked at him a few times, clearly unsettled, then said, "Whatever Raylan wants."

"God, that is so _cute_ ," Dennis said. "Well, I think Raylan wants you to join in the fun. Isn't that right, Raylan?"

"Of course I do," Raylan said. 

"That's settled, then," Dennis said, walking out of the room. They looked at each other. Boyd shrugged and Raylan shrugged back, and they followed him into the bedroom. 

Dennis was already taking off his shirt off, and Raylan watched him. He had a good body, trim and nicely toned. Boyd must have seen him watching, because he nudged him in the shoulder and whispered, "Go on."

Raylan walked over to Dennis and took him by the waist. He kissed him and started unbuttoning his jeans. 

"I can't figure you two out at all," Dennis said, grinning. Raylan just shrugged and pushed his pants down. 

Boyd was undressed and sitting on the bed by the time Raylan and Dennis got each other undressed. It was strange letting a guy other than Boyd touch him like this. He wasn't sure if it actually was because it was a guy or not. They hadn't been with any girls since they'd become a couple, either. That might feel almost as weird. 

It felt weird, but also really exciting, and he didn't feel too nervous anymore. He really hoped this would work, that it would be good for him so he'd want to do it again with Boyd. He glanced up to look for his boy, who was leaning against the headboard, stroking his dick languidly, and gazing at Raylan and Dennis. 

Raylan pulled back a little and reached over to rub Boyd's leg. "Baby," he said. "Come here."

Boyd smiled and laid down next to them. Raylan sort of pushed Dennis towards him, and he laughed and rolled over. They made out for awhile, and Raylan touched both of them, and though in the back of his mind there was still a sense of disbelief that this was happening, mostly what he felt was that he'd gotten lucky beyond anything he could have imagined when he was growing up in Arlo Givens's house, or working in the mine.

When Boyd sat up and moved back, Dennis turned to Raylan and made eye contact. He said, “If we’re going to do this, we should get started. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. You can just show me how good you are at blow jobs, instead.” 

“No,” he replied, “I want to.”

Dennis nodded. “Then quit pushing me off on your boyfriend.” He winked, and Raylan flushed. He turned back to Boyd and said, “Not that I minded. But you want me to do this, right?”

Boyd nodded. “I want him to like it,” he said. 

“Oh my _god,_ Dennis laughed. “You’re killing me. Listen, I’m going to take care of it. If he doesn’t like it with me, he’s never going to like it, period. Okay? You believe me?”

“Yeah,” Boyd said, sounding sincere. 

When he started, it felt pretty much like what he and Boyd had already been doing. It was good, Raylan liked it as much as he normally did. Then Dennis told Boyd to suck his dick while he did the other stuff, but Raylan had to pull him off after a couple minutes so he didn’t come. He told Boyd to just kiss him instead, and he still felt like he might come too soon. 

“I think I’m good,” Raylan said. He felt ready, like beyond ready. “Do it. I really want it now.” 

Dennis looked up at Boyd, grinning, and said, “Well, I think I figured out at least part of your problem. He begs like a horny puppy and you can’t resist him.” To Raylan, he said, “Honey, you need to learn a little patience.”

Raylan groaned. “Fuck.”

“I think he’s going to like this just fine,” Dennis murmured, then went back to what he’d been doing. 

When Dennis finally, after what felt like a goddamn age, sat up and smiled down at Raylan, Boyd crawled over to kneel next to him. Raylan asked, “Now?” and when he nodded, started to roll over. 

“No,” Dennis said. “Not like that. I need to see your face, make sure you’re doing okay. And anyway...I just want to see it. You’re so pretty. I’m sure Boyd wants to look at you too, so we’ll do it like this.”

“O-okay.” Raylan didn’t want to tell him they didn’t even know you could do it that way. He met Boyd’s eyes as Dennis pushed his legs back. Boyd slid close and laced his fingers through Raylan’s. 

Dennis went slow, almost excruciatingly slow. “You need to take a deep breath and let it all the way out,” he told Raylan. He did, and by the time he’d finished breathing out, Dennis was inside of him, smiling. “That was okay, huh?”

Raylan stared up at him, wide-eyed. He wasn’t sure that word covered it. It felt so strange being all filled up. He tried to concentrate on the man’s face. Dennis. He looked kind, and Raylan wasn’t sure if that was just luck or if maybe it was why he’d picked him. He’d thought it was just that he’d been watching Boyd, but maybe it was the way he’d been looking at him. Then he moved, just a little, and he finally understood what it was they’d been missing. 

“Uh, Jesus,” he panted. Dennis smiled a little and did it again, then worked up to a regular rhythm. Raylan didn’t try to say anything else, he just gazed hazily up at the man who was doing this _incredible thing_ to him. 

“Is it really good, baby?” Boyd whispered, staring down at him with an expression of mild awe. Raylan couldn’t imagine what his face must look like. He just made a sort of helpless sound and pulled Boyd’s hand onto his cock. Boyd kissed him and pulled up on him, slow and steady. 

“‘m gonna come, Boyd,” Raylan whispered. “I gotta...tell him.”

“I got it,” Dennis said. “Okay. That’s okay. You go ahead. Go ahead,” he panted, pushing in harder, faster. 

Raylan let out a muffled cry into Boyd’s mouth as his come shot almost up to his chest. Dennis groaned and gripped Raylan’s thighs as he made his final push, moving his body up towards the headboard with the force of it.

Dennis flopped over to the side of the bed, breathing like he'd just done sprints. He tied off the rubber and dropped it in the basket beside the bed, then laughed breathily. "Holy fuck. That was hot. You really got off on that, huh? Lucky Boyd." He frowned. "Although, you didn't exactly get lucky tonight, did you? Someone needs to take care of you."

"I will," Raylan said quickly, and he turned to press his body up against Boyd's. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten that Boyd hadn't his. "I'm sorry, babe, I was distracted." He reached for his cock.

Boyd shook his head. "That's okay, that's not what this was about. I don't have to get off, it don't matter."

"No way that's fair," Raylan murmured back. 

"Anyway, I want to watch," Dennis said. "You got to watch, and I know you liked that. Now me."

Now that Raylan was conscious of him watching, he felt suddenly awkward. "What, uh, what do you want me to do, Boyd?"

"Well, if you insist, I guess you could suck my dick." He was smiling and brushing his fingers through Raylan's hair. Raylan kissed him, then crawled down to kneel between his knees on the bed. 

Boyd's hands were in his hair and he was really hard already, so Raylan couldn't understand how he would have just let it go without coming. Or why. Boyd should have known he'd always want to make him feel good, and make it fair. 

He took Boyd deep into his throat, more than he'd ever done before, he was pretty certain. He felt powerful, like he could do anything in bed. He felt like some kind of sexual superhero, which made him want to laugh. He had never thought _getting_ fucked would have that effect. 

Boyd moaned and squeezed his shoulder, and Raylan slid a hand up his chest, coming to rest on his neck and stroking it with his thumb. Boyd took it and kissed it, then tugged on his arm until he pulled off and looked up. 

"Come here, okay?" he asked quietly, and Raylan went to him. It wasn't as if he didn't know there was someone else in the room, but he didn't really care that much. He wanted to be close to Boyd now. 

He pressed tight against Boyd and wrapped his fingers around him. "Can't wait to do that with you," he muttered, his lips dragging up the side of Boyd's face. "Gonna be so good." 

"Fuck," Boyd said, and crushed his mouth into Raylan's as he started coming. 

They stayed close for a few seconds, then Raylan rolled away in search of tissues. 

"You can wash up in the bathroom," Dennis said. "Matter of fact, why don't you guys take a shower and then come have another drink with me? Unless you're in a big hurry to be done with me." He was smiling like he thought the whole thing was funny. 

"Sounds good," Boyd said. "The drink. Right babe?" 

"Yeah," Raylan said. "Definitely." He started to get up, but leaned over to give Dennis a kiss first. "I had no idea it would be like that. Thanks, man."

"Don't be ridiculous," Dennis said, and Raylan was pretty sure he was the one blushing this time. "This is the best thing that's happened to me at a bar in...I don't know, ever? Certainly here in Salt Lake, it is. This place sucks, in case you hadn't noticed. I mean, I'm sure it's perfectly nice if you're white, straight, Mormon and Republican, but otherwise it has some serious shortcomings."

In the shower, they didn't talk much. Boyd did ask, "You okay with all this?" and Raylan smiled and kissed him in response. 

They came out to the living room with wet hair, dressed but for shoes, and Dennis handed them each a glass of whiskey. 

Raylan looked around the place. He hadn't really been able to pay much attention to it before, being so nervous, but it was really nice. Everything went together just right, but it was still comfortable. 

"Did it come with all this stuff?" he asked. "The house, I mean."

Dennis shrugged. "Just the furniture. I'm not buying big anything of my own while I'm still moving around so much. One of these days I'll settle in one place and buy some good stuff."

"This isn't good?" Raylan asked doubtfully. 

Dennis smiled. "It looks okay, but it's not great quality. They replace it every couple years in these rental houses. I had to replace the curtains though, they were hideous."

Raylan ran his hand over the throw that was draped over the back of the sofa. "It looks really nice. Did I mention our place is a dump?"

"Might help if you didn't leave your shit all over the floor all the time," Boyd suggested. 

"Don't seem like much of a point in keeping it tidy, it's still a dump. I wouldn't even begin to know how to..." he gestured vaguely at the room, "decorate."

"Well don't look at me," Boyd said. "See? I told you we needed someone to teach is how to be gay."

Dennis burst out laughing. "That's not my area, but I'll give you one quick lesson: Quit saying shit like that. Look, why don't you make friends with a girl and get her to go shopping with you?"

"Why not you?" Boyd asked.

Dennis shook his head at him. "Cute as you are, I do not have time to take you boys on as a project. I think you'll probably figure out the whole...being gay thing on your own. You don't have to be any certain way, you know."

"Told you," Raylan muttered at Boyd.

They finished their drinks and said goodbye, drove home and went right to bed. 

That had all happened so long ago, and there were times when it felt that way. Other times, it was right at his fingertips, like he could reach out and touch it, step into it. 

“Still took us a few tries to get it right,” Raylan said, nudging Boyd in the ribs.

“At this point, I think that’s what they call a statistical anomaly, darlin’. 

“Hmmm, maybe,” Raylan said, kissing the back of his neck. “Care to make it a little bit more insignificant?”

“In Ava’s guest bed? Is that rude, do you think?”

“I think I don’t give a shit,” Raylan said, and climbed on top of him.


	10. Ten

They woke early the next morning after a shitty night’s sleep for both of them. They grumbled accusations of bed-hogging at each other as they pulled on clothes and made their way downstairs. Raylan yawned and looked at his watch as Boyd searched for the coffee and filters to start a pot. 

“We can let her sleep until the coffee’s ready, then I gotta wake her up so she can drive me back to the city. What do you think you’re gonna do today? Look at apartments?”

Boyd's eyes slid away as he pulled a jar of ground coffee from the cabinet. "Well..."

"Boyd. Tell me you ain't planning to hang around here."

"Raylan, I'm worried about her. I can't just leave her here, what if Johnny and that fat asshole come back?"

Raylan sighed hard and rubbed his tired eyes. "How long? I mean, you can't move in here and be her permanent bodyguard. When do I get you back?"

Boyd frowned a little and walked over to him. "I'm sorry, honey. I know this ain't easy for you either. I don't like it any more than you do, but I feel responsible for her now. I wouldn't feel right just...what if something happened?"

Raylan pressed his lips into a thin line and took the coffee jar out of his hand. He didn't say anything until he had it brewing, then looked at him. "I get it," he said. "But I'm selfish, too. You know what I'm like when you're gone more'n a few days."

Boyd smiled grudgingly and said, "You turn into a big sloppy mess. It would be cute if you weren't forty goddamn years old."

"I'm thirty-nine," Raylan said, glaring at him. 

"For a few more weeks," Boyd said, laughing softly. "I know you don't think I forgot."

"Seriously, baby, what is the plan here?" Boyd looked uncomfortable, and Raylan suddenly got a bad feeling. "Boyd, what are you thinking?"

"I'm gonna go talk to Daddy. See if I can get him to-"

"No." Raylan spoke like he was giving an order, and he knew Boyd wasn't going to like it. He thought maybe, if he held his ground and acted like he had the right to tell him what to do, Boyd would listen. If it pissed him off, that was a small price to pay. "Stay away from Little Sandy, stay the hell away from Bo. There ain't no point, Boyd."

Boyd was shaking his head calmly as he pulled two mugs from the cabinet. "Nice try, Raylan," he said. "Very sexy, actually, you can try ordering me around like that in bed sometime, but you know better than to think that's gonna work in real life."

Raylan huffed and started to reply, but stopped when Ava shuffled into the room, yawning and scratching her head. 

"Morning, boys," she said. She sat down at the table. "Pour me a cup of that, one of you."

Boyd hopped to it and brought it over, then sat next to her. "Ava honey, I'd like to borrow your truck today to drive Raylan up to work, and then I'd come right back down and try to help you get this little Crowder problem sorted out."

Ava patted his hand. "You really don't have to do that, Boyd. You have things you need to do, I'm sure, you just moved. I don't know there's much you can do, anyway."

"That's what I said," Raylan put in.

"Raylan, will you please shut up?" Boyd asked. "I'm gonna go see my father. Whatever he thinks of me, I'm gonna try to make him see the sense of letting this be, now a federal marshal is personally invested."

"How 'bout I just pay him a visit?" Raylan offered. "I'll threaten him."

Boyd rolled his eyes. "He don't respond to threats. Baby, I'm going. You want to go see him, I can't stop you, but you ain't coming with me. Unless something happens, I'll be home day after tomorrow. Okay?"

Raylan ground his teeth and seethed in between sips of coffee. Ava grinned at him, then got up and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't fret, sweetheart. Boyd'll be back before you turn forty."

She left the room quickly after that, and Raylan shouted after her, "How long were you listening?" He huffed a sigh and looked at Boyd. "If we're going, let's go. Maybe I can actually be on time for work, and Art won't be so pissed."

"He's certainly going to be pissed, Raylan."

"I'd blame it on you but he always takes your side," Raylan grumbled, but he reached out for Boyd and pulled him in close. "Day after tomorrow, yeah?"

"Promise." They kissed, then rinsed their mugs and headed out.

Raylan did make it to work on time, but Art had plenty to say to him about putting a fellow deputy in a difficult situation, and putting himself and Boyd in danger. 

"Putting _him_ in danger? Art, you have got to be shitting me. You know perfectly well he's the one insisted on going down there. There's no way he was about to leave. And it's a damn good thing we didn't, considering what happened after Rachel left."

Art's face darkened as he listened to Raylan's account of the visit from Johnny and Shawn, and he only got halfway through telling him what Boyd was planning to do before he erupted in anger again.

"Raylan, what the hell are you thinking?" he yelled.

"Goddamn it, Art," Raylan said, exasperated. "What do want me to do? I even tried outright fucking forbidding it, this morning."

Art laughed sharply. "I can imagine how that went over." He shook his head. "How did someone as stubborn as you end up with someone as hard-headed as that?"

"Dumb luck," Raylan said. "It's good, 'cause he's too proud to admit he made a mistake and leave me."

"Fine," Art sighed. "Let me know how his visit goes, and if there's anything we need to be prepared for."

"Will do."

Rachel was apparently not ready to forgive him, entirely, so around mid-morning he asked Tim what she liked from Starbucks and went out to fetch one for her. He was coming back up in the elevator with his grande coffee and Rachel's decaf venti skim peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream, which would have been a really embarrassing drink to order, for someone less secure in his masculinity, when the doors opened on the second floor and a woman stepped in. 

She looked so familiar, but he was not able to place her. She was gorgeous, and he wondered if he and Boyd had slept with her sometime. He was going to feel real bad if that was it and he couldn't remember her name. 

"That's quite a drink," she said, nodding at the cup in his hand. Her voice was familiar too, and he almost had it when she said, "Holy crap, _Raylan?_ "

They stared at each other for a second, and finally he said, "Winona!" He was relieved, both because he remembered, and because they hadn't actually slept with her. Not for lack of trying, though. They'd known her in Salt Lake and they'd been friendly, used to drink together sometimes, and had her over for dinner at least once. 

The elevator doors opened on his floor and they both got out. 

"Uh, this ain't for me," Raylan said, feeling dumb. "I pissed off a coworker and I'm trying to make it up to her."

"Already?" she laughed. 

"Yeah...hang on, okay? I want to talk to you."

She nodded and followed him into the office. He found Rachel and handed her the drink, and she looked at him like he was crazy. 

"What the hell is this, Raylan?"

"Peace offering? Tim said this was your drink."

Rachel let out peals of laughter and handed him back the cup. "I guess that's a point for Tim. But I appreciate the gesture. So you know for next time you fuck up, I like a double tall dry cappuccino."

Raylan glared at a silently cracking up Tim on the way back to where Winona was standing. 

"Got played, huh?" she said, smiling sympathetically.

"Just a little hazing, I guess," he said, rolling his eyes. "I've gotten worse, other places." He smiled back and leaned against his desk, thinking that she might look even prettier than she had back then. She looked like she'd maybe had a few interesting things happen to her in the interim, and maybe he'd like to find out what they were. 

Art came out of his office just then, supposedly heading for the coffee maker. He paused next to Raylan and said, "Well, hello, Winona. I see you've met my new deputy." He turned to Raylan and said, "I meant to mention before, Leslie wants you and Boyd over for dinner on Sunday. You don't have plans, do you?"

Raylan leveled a look at him that let him know in no uncertain terms that he knew just what Art was trying to do. Art just gazed back mildly, and Raylan said, "That'll be fine."

"You and Boyd are still together?" Winona asked. She had a very big, somewhat shocked smile on her face. 

Raylan smirked at Art quickly, then said, "We sure are. It'll be fifteen years in a few months. He'll be real glad to see you, too. We should have drinks. We can't have you over 'til we get a real place, though. We are currently residing in a hotel room, which ain't really set up for guests."

"I'd love to," Winona said, touching him on the arm. "I can't wait to find out what brought you back to Kentucky. I always thought you were both dead set against that."

"So were you, as I recall," Raylan replied.

"You want to get drinks today after work, and I'll tell you all about it?"

Raylan hesitated, but he didn't see any reason why they shouldn't. "I could, but Boyd's in Harlan right now. He might be jealous he didn't get to see you, but he won't mind too much." Hopefully, he thought. 

"Alright," she said. She looked at him for a few seconds, then shook her head. "Raylan and Boyd. I can hardly believe it. Does he also look even better than he did twelve years ago?"

Raylan grinned. "I have no objectivity where that's concerned, but I think he looks damn good. I was thinking the same about you, though, lady."

"Oh for god's sake," Art muttered, pouring his coffee and walking away.

"What was that about?" Winona asked.

Raylan laughed. "Art and Boyd are buddies," he said. "He likes him better than he does me, and he probably thinks I flirt too much. He still can't accept that Boyd likes it when I do. And he does it just as much, anyhow. It's the secret to our success."

Winona's eyes widened. "You two are still at it, huh? That's why I was so surprised you're still together. It seems so...I don't know. Never mind." She was blushing and looking away like she thought she'd said something offensive. 

"That's okay, I know what you're saying. But we love each other, right? So why should that be threatened just because we might like to sleep with other people, or even if we like other people and feel affection towards them? He's still the one I want to be with at the end of the day. I'm still the only one he would pick up and move back to this godforsaken place with."

She was still smiling at him, but it looked a little sad. "Well," she said, "that's really very touching, Raylan. I'm envious." He wondered what had happened to her. It must not all have been good.

"Talk more after work, okay? Speaking of, I didn't even ask you what you're doing in the courthouse. Court reporter, still?"

"Court reporter, again," she said. "I'll fill you in over drinks, alright?"

"Sure." Raylan watched her walk out, then sat down at his desk. Tim was watching him appraisingly. "What?" he asked after a minute or so of pretending he hadn't noticed.

Tim shrugged. "I'm no expert on body language, but she sort of looked like she wanted to tear your clothes off, man. Did you tell her you were gay?"

Raylan grinned. "She's an old friend. Of me and Boyd. And I don't care if you call me gay, but it ain't entirely accurate for either of us."

Tim stared at him for a few seconds like he was trying to decide whether to ask, then decided against it. Raylan didn't say anything else to Tim, just called Boyd to let him know what had happened. 

"Winona? Are you serious?" 

"Yeah, man, I just ran into her in the elevator. Ain't that some crazy shit?" 

Boyd paused for a second, then asked in a somewhat lower voice, "Is she still hot?"

"She's still absolutely gorgeous," Raylan said, grinning. "And I think she's single. I got plans with her later. Gonna see if maybe her outlook has shifted. If you know what I-"

"Of course I know what you mean." Boyd laughed, but he sounded a little subdued. "Yeah, darlin', sounds good. I guess you had a better morning than I did, then."

Raylan frowned. "What, Boyd?"

"I went up to Little Sandy. Saw the big man." 

Boyd's voice was steady, but Raylan wasn't about to be fooled after fifteen goddamn years. Raylan angled away from Tim's desk and lowered his voice. "Honey, why didn't you call me right after?"

"I only got back about half an hour ago. I was going to. I needed to get my head right, first."

Raylan's frown deepened at that. That wasn't right. "Why?" he asked. "If your head's fucked up, I'm the one you're supposed to call right away. Ain't I?"

"Yeah," Boyd said. "I think this place does something to me. Makes me feel...not like myself. Or maybe too much like my-"

" _No,_ " Raylan said. "That's bullshit. You're who you are. What happened with Bo?"

Boyd sighed. "He was weirdly nice to me at first. I couldn't understand it. I mean, he was inappropriate and homophobic, but he was treating me, personally, in a much more decent way than I expected."

"What did he say?"

Boyd snorted. "Well, first he asked how my business was going, so I talked about that a bit. Then he said..." He laughed, a brief but genuine laugh like he couldn't hold it back. "He said, 'Son, I ain't never gonna approve of what you do in your personal life, but I don't have to dwell on it. Just tell me, at least, that you're the man in that business. I mean shit, son, I know that Givens pup was almost as pretty as a girl back in them days. Looked just like his mama, heh heh heh...'"

Raylan laughed helplessly. "You are shitting me. He wanted to know who fucks who?"

"It's who fucks whom, sweetheart, and yeah. Apparently."

"Well, what did you say?" Raylan was having a hard time thinking what possible response you could have to something like that.

"I told him it ain't like that, and he just scowled at me."

"Well, shit, darlin'," Raylan replied, speaking very quietly now, "I wouldn't have minded, you told him I was the girl. It's about...what...75 percent true, anyway."

"I don't care if it was 100 percent true about...that. It don't make you a girl, and I ain't about to-"

"Boyd," Raylan laughed, "I know. I was joking. I'm just saying, I give far less of a shit what Bo Crowder thinks of me than you do. You can say whatever you need to say about me to make it go easier."

"Don't matter nohow," Boyd said, and Raylan marveled at the way he was speaking. He sounded like he used to when they first met, before the mine. Before high school even. "Found out why he was being decent to me shortly thereafter. He wants me to get him a goddamn arsenal. He wants all kinds of shit. Asked if I could get rocket launchers."

"Can you?"

"I probably could," Boyd said. "But obviously I won't be doing that."

"Really?" Raylan said, unable to help it, "What about his second amendment rights, though?"

"Fuck you, Raylan," Boyd laughed. "I'm a legitimate businessman. But anyway, I told him no, so he called me a no account faggot and disowned me again."

"Babe, I'm sorry." Even though he should have known and probably had.

"Then I told him he better tell his boys to stay away from Ava or my husband and his Marshal friends would make sure he never got out."

Raylan was quiet for a second, then laughed again. "You said husband?"

"Sure," Boyd said casually. "Not just to piss him off, either. One of these days, Raylan."

"I'm keeping my own name," Raylan said, grinning. 

"I would imagine. Not that yours is any great shakes either."

"Christ," Raylan sighed. "You're coming home tomorrow no matter what, right?"

"First thing."

"Okay. We'll go out someplace nice for dinner."

"Bye."

"Bye." He hung up the phone and sat quietly for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Maybe he needed to pay Bo a visit too.

Raylan walked down to the lobby at a little past five-thirty and found Winona waiting. They found a dark bar a couple blocks away and settled at a corner table. 

"So, I thought you were never coming back here," Raylan said. "What happened?"

"My mother got sick," Winona replied, "so I came back to help out. Now it seems I'm sort of stuck."

Raylan nodded. "That's exactly what I'm afraid is gonna happen to me. I'm already involved in some bullshit down in Harlan, having to do with Boyd's family of all things, which is why he's down there and not here with me." 

He realized he was scowling and rubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to smooth it out. Winona patted his hand and smiled sympathetically.

"What have you been up to all these years?" Raylan asked, signaling to the waitress for another round.

She sighed. "That's a long story, Raylan. You sure you're that interested?"

Raylan leaned in and said, "Of course I'm interested, honey."

She did a sort of double take and hesitated. "You and Boyd are okay, right? You're happy? Because I'd never, ever want to get in the middle of anyth-"

"And I wouldn't put you in the middle of anything. I've never cheated on Boyd. I wouldn't. I don't want to. This is just drinks."

"Yeah," she said. "I'm sorry. It's just...I got married. I met him in Salt Lake, about a year after you guys left. He was...he's not a bad person. And I don't think I'm a bad person. But we were bad together. And also really good together." She made a frustrated sound and buried her face in her hands. 

"What was his name?"

"Owen," she said, and Raylan heard anger in her voice, and also something else. Longing. "He's from England. He's back there now. Which...is good. Because if he's anywhere close enough I always end up back in bed with him."

"England, huh?" Raylan nodded. "Sexy accent?"

"Duh," Winona said, and when Raylan laughed, she laughed along with him. "I fell _hard._ And it was really good for a couple years. And then...I don't know. I always felt like he was holding some of himself back. He loved me, I know he did, but something was always missing. And after awhile, that gets lonely."

"So you looked for company elsewhere?"

She nodded. "And so did he. I still haven't figured out why we couldn’t just give each other what we needed. Why did we have to get it from someone else?"

Raylan shook his head slowly. He had no idea how relationships worked, really. He'd fallen into something that probably should never have worked, at a very young age, and he and Boyd had blithely blundered through minefields and come through with barely a scratch. Dumb luck, just like he'd told Art.

"Anyway," she continued, "we got drunk one night and got in a huge fight, and it all came out. We split up. I can't imagine being able to get over that. So I guess that's why it's so hard to understand how you and Boyd can just...do what you do, and it's so easy for you. Don't you ever get jealous?"

Raylan shrugged. "Sometimes, but only a little. I kinda like it. It reminds me I got something to lose."

Winona smiled at him. "That's cute."

"Is it?" 

She nodded. "You know, I always regretted turning you guys down, back then. It scared me, I think. I wasn't sure I wanted to be the kind of girl who did things like that."

"And now?" Raylan asked, raising his eyebrows.'

"I guess I'm not any kind of girl, anymore," she said, smiling.

Raylan started to reply, when his phone started buzzing. "Sorry, hang on a sec..." Raylan pulled out the phone, expecting it to be Boyd, but he didn't recognize the number. He pressed answer. "Givens."

"Raylan, it's Ava." She sounded desperate and like she'd been crying. "Boyd's been shot."

His stomach clenched. He couldn't even think of how to answer, didn't want to ask the question. All he could manage was, "What?"

"They just took him, he's still alive, but Raylan I don't know, he got it in the chest and he...I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..." She was crying again and that gave him a thrill of anger underneath his fear. 

"On my way," he growled, then hung up abruptly.

Winona was staring at him with a horrified expression. "What happened?"

"Boyd's been shot. _Fuck._ Fucking Harlan." 

He stood up and fumbled some bills out of his wallet, barely seeing them. Winona had stood also, and reached out to touch his arm. He looked up at her and barely understood what he was looking at. His heart was pounding behind his eyes and he was shaking and he just knew he needed to get to Harlan as fast as possible.

"Raylan, you can't drive."

"What?" he said faintly, not comprehending.

"You'll crash the car," she said, a little sharply. "I'll drive you. I'll go fast, I promise. You got a little bubble thing for the top of the car?"

"Uh..." She was already hustling him to the door, when he finally got what she was saying. "Yeah. But you don't have to-"

"Don't be stupid," she said, holding out her hand for the keys. "We don't need a Romeo and...I guess, Romeo situation here, you kill yourself driving down to see him, he wakes up and finds out, then-"

"I'm familiar with the play," Raylan said. He looked at her more clearly now. She was being nice, she wanted to help. Boyd would want him to let her. "Thanks, Winona." He handed her the keys.

They drove for awhile, and as promised, she floored it. Raylan was doing his best not to think about anything, but he couldn't help wondering who it was. He really hoped it wasn't Johnny who'd done it. Boyd had dealt with enough terrible family shit already that day. 

A thought occurred to him suddenly, and apparently his filter was out of commission, so he said, "Boyd wouldn't off himself, you know."

"Huh?" Winona asked, clearly bewildered.

"Like in Romeo and Juliet," he explained. "He wouldn't wake up to find me dead and kill himself. He'd find someone else to kill. He'd keep on keepin' on, though."

"Yeah? What about you?"

"Oh, I'd get revenge too, of course. Me and him, we're both hillbillies at heart, you know. That's what you do. But after, I couldn't say. One time he left me, and I...didn't do well."

Winona glanced at him quickly, then back at the road. "Why did he leave?"

"I was taking him for granted," Raylan said. He didn't want to tell the whole story, couldn't handle reliving it at that moment. "I never did that again."

Winona just nodded and kept her eyes on the road. After awhile, she asked, "Would it make you feel better to talk about him? Or worse?"

Raylan shook his head. "Don't know if much of anything could make me feel worse. Why? Did you want to ask me something?"

"Not anything in particular," she replied, shrugging. "I just always liked the way you guys were with each other. I've never been that comfortable with another person. It's like you're in each other's heads or something."

"I think it's rare to meet someone you have as much in common with as me and Boyd. Our personalities are pretty different, but they work well together because our frame of reference is almost exactly alike. We come from the same little place, we come from poverty and crime, and neither of us really belonged there. We share a sexual nature that's very similar, which is shocking, really, considering the size of Harlan."

"Maybe you're related," Winona said, then clapped a hand to her mouth. "Jesus, what is wrong with me? I can't believe I said that, Raylan, I'm sorry."

Raylan just smiled wanly and said, "Maybe so. You know what they say about us hill types and the cousin-fucking. Least we can't make no inbred pups." He paused and thought for a bit. "I'll tell you a story about us if you want to hear it."

"I do," she said, still driving fast and concentrating on the road. It was starting to get dark and she switched on the lights. 

"When we first got together, right after Boyd moved close to me - I was living in a dorm at Glynco during training - things were...really exciting, but weird. You have to understand, we hadn't been in any kind of romantic relationship before that. Together, I mean, and really not at all with anyone. I'd had a couple of girlfriends, but not anything serious. Boyd had dated girls in high school, but not since then. He'd been in the Army most of that time, except when we were working in the mine together after we graduated."

"No boys?"

"No," Raylan answered, smiling faintly. He thought about Boyd's aborted attempt at that experiment, which he still thought was funny. "That was new and kind of a surprise."

"Kind of," she said.

"Right. So here we are, two fuckin' babies trying to figure out how to conduct what felt like a serious relationship. It was brand new, in one way, but felt old at the same time because we had fallen in love quite a few years prior."

Raylan had gone over to Boyd's boarding house almost every night during that stretch of months. One of them would usually get food, then they'd fool around before lying in bed eating and talking. Occasionally they'd have sex and then go out, but they didn't have much money to spare on that sort of thing very often. 

He rarely spent the night in Boyd's room, once a week if that, on a Friday usually, because he'd be too worn out to leave. He hated the idea of them being talked about by the other boarders or the woman who owned the place, though it wasn't like they were actually hiding anything as it was. Mostly he didn't want to see anyone if he left in the morning. 

During the days he spent at Glynco, he was mostly able to concentrate on what he was learning. It was interesting, and he loved learning the practical, physical aspects of the job. Especially shooting, which he was unsurprised to find he had an affinity for. 

Sometimes, though, he worried. It seemed incredible to him that Boyd had left his family, and a future that had been more or less mapped out for him. It wasn't one that would have ever appealed to Raylan, but he knew Boyd was different from him in that way. It scared him, the pressure of making this thing work, and he often thought there was no way he could do it.

He both hated and loved what he had with Boyd. He loved Boyd and always felt good when they were together, but the idea of it wasn't anything he'd ever wanted. He never thought of himself as someone who would or could be in a relationship with a man, and all of a sudden he was in one deep. 

Guys at work would talk about their girlfriends or wives, and Raylan would try to imagine what it would be like to be that easy talking about Boyd. Everyone thought he was single, because they'd asked him if he had a girlfriend and he'd said no without thinking. He realized afterward that he should have said yes, but that she lived back home or something, because then he'd started getting pressure from the other single guys to go out picking up women, or from the coupled guys to get set up on dates. 

"You were having an identity crisis," Winona said, breaking into the flow of his memories. "That's understandable."

"Sure," Raylan said, "only I didn't have that concept to explain it to myself, at the time. I just felt bad. I was so ashamed of myself."

"For loving Boyd?" Winona asked, sounding surprised and sad.

"No, not for that. For being a coward. For...sometimes wishing he'd just leave, go back to Harlan, so I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. I could handle my own suffering, I'd been doing it my whole life, but I didn't want no part of being responsible for his, or anyone else's." 

He laughed, and he could hear what a miserable, choked sound it was. He was responsible for a lot more than Boyd's unhappiness. He might've gotten him killed this time. 

He cast his mind back again. There was so much emotion packed into that short time, so much that was wonderful, but so many bad feelings too, that he'd kept pushed down inside of him. 

It probably hadn't taken long for Boyd to notice, but he'd waited awhile to say anything. It was close to the end of their time there, with only about a month left to go in Raylan's training. He already knew where he was going to be posted, but he hadn't spoken to Boyd about it yet. That had been weighing on him for awhile.

Raylan had stayed over on a Friday night, and they'd woken up pushed together in the middle of the saggy old mattress. They'd woken up and gotten each other off without saying a word, staring at each other like they were seeing something new. 

As he often had, Boyd whispered "I love you" in his ear as soon as he came. Usually Raylan liked it, but that day it felt like he was being suffocated. He hadn't wanted to hear that, hadn't wanted to feel it himself, so he ignored it and finished himself off, then got up and started pulling his clothes on. 

"What you doing, man?" Boyd asked, frowning at him. Normally they would stay in bed for a bit, maybe even doze off to sleep again, on days when Boyd didn't have to go into work. 

"Let's go get breakfast," Raylan said, carefully not looking at his face.

Boyd sat up and took hold of his arm. "We can go eat if you want, but could you please come here and talk to me first?"

"We'll talk over pancakes, okay?" Raylan was trying very hard to sound like nothing was wrong, and he felt like a complete asshole when he heard the lying tone of his voice. 

"No," Boyd said, standing up. "Not okay, Raylan. Something's going on with you and you're gonna tell me what it is. Now, please."

Raylan shook his head. "There's nothing. I'm fine."

"Fuck you, Raylan Givens." Boyd stood, completely naked, in front of Raylan, with his hands on his hips. He looked ridiculous, and it just pissed Raylan off even more. 

"Excuse me? You keep asking me what my problem is, but it seems to me like you're the one with the problem. All I want to do is go get some goddamn breakfast. You don't want to come, fine." He pulled on his shoes and headed for the door, but Boyd stepped in front of him again. 

"You're right," Boyd said, "I do have a problem, but I'm happy to tell you what mine is. It's the fact that you're a shitty actor. It's that I can see perfectly well that you're hurting over something, and I'm the one you're supposed to tell, but you're too fucking scared. Big tough Marshal with a gun on your hip, but too chicken to tell your boyfriend why you're sad."

Raylan ground his teeth together and said in a low voice, "I can't do this. I can't, Boyd. Please get out of my way."

"You can't _do_ this?" Boyd laughed, sharp and brief. "Well, tough shit, we're already doing it. Just talk to me."

Raylan could feel the rage rising up fast, he recognized it. He was sure this must be how his father always felt, right before he beat the shit out of his wife. "Move."

"No." 

Raylan shoved him then, much harder than he should have, harder than he'd wanted to, hard enough to send Boyd sprawling to the floor. It should have been enough to break his anger, but apparently he wasn't ready to let it go yet. 

"I said I can't! Maybe I can't do _any_ of this. I don't think I can handle it, Boyd. It's too much, it's-"

"Raylan," Boyd interrupted, his voice low but carrying. Raylan stopped shouting and stared at him. His boy, who he loved, was on the floor because he'd put him there. His face crumpled, and he put the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Raylan, look at me," Boyd said, still speaking very softly. 

Raylan looked, and Boyd held up a hand. Raylan took it and pulled him to his feet. "I'm so sorry, Boyd. That's why. That's why I can't. I love you, but I can't-"

"Ssh," Boyd soothed, pulling him close. "You can. I know you can. Come on." He took him by the arm and made him sit on the edge of the bed. "You ain't gonna chase me away. Talk or don't talk, I ain't leaving. I made my choice already."

"You should," Raylan said, his voice muffled by Boyd's shoulder. Boyd was stroking his hair, trying to make him feel better, and he didn't deserve it at all. "You should go. I don't know how to do this."

"Well, neither do I," Boyd said. "We're gonna figure it out though. I swear, we will."

"Okay," Raylan said simply. He gave up then. He had no more will to fight Boyd, and even if it was selfish, he couldn't keep pushing him away. "I got a post in Salt Lake City."

"Alright," Boyd said, and kept petting him while he waited for the rest. 

"I'm...I don't know how I can ever talk to people about you. These guys in the Marshal service, I can't see them being too understanding. I haven't told anyone at Glynco." His whole body was tensed up, waiting for Boyd's reaction. 

"Raylan...I know you haven't told anyone. You think I chat about you at work? Well, actually, I do, but I call you Angie." He pushed Raylan's shoulders back and looked him in the eye. "We're only here another month, so no need to cause a stir. But once you're in the post, once I have a job and we're settled in out there, we can't do that no more."

"I don't think I-"

"You can, and you will. Stop it, Raylan. What are you afraid of, anyway? You think people won't respect you?"

Raylan shrugged miserably. "That's all they'll think about. They won't see me as anything else, it'll be my whole identity."

"At first, probably so, but they'll get used to it and eventually it won't be like that anymore. But if you lie, if you get all squirrelly and weird about it and start talking about the 'person' you're seeing and what 'they' said, you're just gonna look weak. You gotta be brave."

"But I'm not," Raylan said miserably.

"That's not true. That might be what your asshole father told you, but it's a damn lie. You never would've asked me to stay if you had no courage. You woulda said 'I made a mistake,' and, 'I was drunk.' But you didn't, you said, 'How many chances do you want?' You said, 'I wish you could stay with me and never go back.' You might've wished it wasn't that way, but you never tried to deny that it was."

Raylan tightened his arms around him and said, "I want to be as good as you think I am."

"Well then, when you think you ain't, you should tell me that."

Raylan nodded, then hesitantly leaned forward, unsure if Boyd would want him just then, but he really needed it. Boyd took his face in his hands and pushed him back onto the bed as he kissed him. 

"Angie, huh?" Raylan said, when they'd stopped kissing for a few seconds. 

Boyd grinned and sang, " _When will those clouds all disappeeeeaaaar?_ "

"Mick Jagger, you are not," Raylan laughed. 

Boyd kissed him again, then hopped up and reached for his clothes. "Let's go out to breakfast. Apparently fighting with you makes me hungry."

Raylan finished the story, edited a bit out of politeness, and Winona glanced over at him. "That's a nice story, Raylan. I guess he had your number pretty good, huh?"

"He did. I thought...I _thought_ that I had to be perfect, because if I fucked up, everything would be ruined. I thought it was all on me and that I could never have doubts or be scared because that meant it wasn't good, and if I told him how I felt, he'd think I didn't love him. He understood all that about me, somehow."

"The stuff you were worried about, that was mostly pretty real stuff, right? I mean, with your work and all."

"Sure. Yeah, but I was using it as an excuse to run away from it. From him. And that wasn't the only time I pulled that shit either, but he never let me get away with it."

Winona didn't answer right away, but after awhile she said, "What made you pick that one to tell me?"

"To show you what I'm losing, if I lose him. I need him. I figured that out a long time ago. If he's gone, I really don't know what I'll do."

He looked out the side window and watched the trees go by. They'd be in Harlan soon, and he pushed everything away except the thought that he'd see Boyd and he'd be alive, and then they'd do whatever they needed to get out again. He wouldn't fail him again, wouldn't be weak. He wouldn't let Boyd take another hit for him.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan has a hard time getting in to see Boyd. And there's some family business to attend to.

Raylan had to flash his badge at the hospital to get them to tell him anything about Boyd. He took a moment to get pissed off, and think about how casually they threw around words like "husband" and "married." He'd always known they were sort of bullshitting each other, just talking about the way they felt about it, but he hadn't given much thought to what it meant until that moment. Probably he should have, considering his line of work. He wondered if Boyd had.

Boyd was still in the operating room. They'd removed a bullet from just above his heart and he'd lost a lot of blood. They were still working to stabilize him, and they put Raylan and Winona in a small waiting room on the same floor. Raylan sat heavily and sunk his face into his hands as Winona patted him on the back, and neither of them spoke. 

After what felt like a year, but was probably an hour or so, a nurse came in to tell them that Boyd was in stable condition, but still critical, and they'd probably know more the next day. 

Raylan stood quickly and said, "I'd like to see him."

"I'm sorry, immediate family only."

"Yeah. I am," Raylan said. 

The nurse raised her eyebrows and said, "Oh? How are you related?"

Raylan gritted his teeth and said quietly, "He's my brother."

She sighed and shook her head. "He's no such thing, Raylan Givens."

He looked at her then - hadn't really seen her before, because he was only thinking about Boyd - and realized he knew her. She'd gone out with Johnny for awhile in high school, so she knew perfectly well who Boyd was, and who Raylan was. 

He closed his eyes for a second and muttered, "Shit," then opened them and attempted a smile. "Hey, Cassie. Listen, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, but it has been a long time, and I'm under a bit of stress. I really need to see Boyd. Please."

She crossed her arms and asked, "Why? Who's he to you?" 

"Come on," Raylan said, "you must have figured that out. Look, I know I lied about him being my brother, but he is family." She just raised her eyebrows and waited, and he felt his anger from earlier rise up again, so he said, "Sometimes I say he's my husband, but I don't think I'm gonna say that no more until it's true, because if it was I wouldn't have you standing in between me and his goddamn bedside."

She stared at him for a second, then glanced over her shoulder and back at him, pursing her lips. "You don't have to act like I'm the enemy, Raylan. It's not my fault you can't get married. They put it on the ballot, I'll vote for it, okay? But as it stands, you are not Boyd's actual spouse, and I don't make the rules."

Raylan spread his hands out to his sides and said, "Five minutes. Please. If you catch shit for it, say I pulled my gun on you."

She huffed, but said, "Yeah, alright. Five minutes, no more." She gestured towards a room two doors down. "In there."

"Thank you, honey. I appreciate it very much." He walked towards the room she'd indicated, then turned back and said, "Appreciate your vote too."

She smiled at him and waved a hand as she walked back to the nurse's station. Raylan walked into the room and approached the bed. Boyd's chest was a mess of bandages, wires and tubes. His face was very pale and drawn, but he looked alive. 

Raylan thought of the time Boyd had come home really sick from an expo with a virus of some kind. He'd barely made it in the door before collapsing in the foyer. Raylan had carried him to bed and took his clothes off, then brought him juice and aspirin. 

He'd been on the verge of taking him to the ER when, in the middle of the night, he'd woken up shivering and rambling about the ceiling falling in, yelling for Raylan and telling him to run. Raylan had held onto him and told him he was there, and that they'd made it to the surface, and that he really loved him - something he'd always wished he'd been able to say after the real cave-in - and eventually Boyd was still, his breathing back to almost normal. 

Maybe Boyd had slept a little then, but Raylan hadn't, and after some time he'd stirred a little and said, "Shit, I had the worst dream, baby." His voice had been weak and hoarse, but lucid. 

"I know, Boyd," Raylan had said, feeling his forehead. It was clammy but not burning up like before. "I think your fever broke. I think I should take you to the doctor tomorrow."

"Nah, it's just the flu." Boyd had always hated the doctor. "He'll just tell me to rest." 

Raylan got up to get him something to drink, and when he came back Boyd was sleeping again. That had been the worst of it, though Boyd's fever kept coming and going over the next several days. Raylan had come down with it the following day, and they'd spent the better part of a week lying miserably next to each other, watching terrible daytime tv and complaining about how shitty they felt. 

Boyd looked similar now to how he'd looked then, but Raylan was far too pissed at himself to feel the same mixture of pity and affection as that flu had inspired.

He leaned over the bed and kissed Boyd on the forehead. His skin felt waxy and cool, and Raylan tried not to think how much it was like a dead thing. 

"Boyd," he said in a cracked whisper, "I'm so glad you're still with me. I'm gonna fix this, darlin', I promise. We're done with this place. I love you so much. You know how I get when you're not around, so you just remember that. Remember how I need you."

He stood quietly, holding loosely to a hand stuck with IVs and covered in tape, until Cassie the nurse stuck her head in and said, "You gotta go, the doctor's about to check on him."

Raylan nodded. He touched Boyd on the cheek, then turned and walked out. Winona was waiting for him in the hallway, and she wrapped her arm around him as they walked out. 

They were halfway across the lobby, Raylan paying no attention to his surroundings, when he heard his name spoken. The voice was unmistakable, even though he hadn't heard it in twenty years, and he couldn't understand why he'd be hearing it in this place. 

He looked over at the bank of chairs in the middle of the lobby and saw his aunt Helen, half-risen from her seat and clutching a worn leather purse. When they made eye contact, she smiled hesitantly and straightened further. 

Raylan walked over, trailed by Winona, standing at a bit of a distance from Helen. It was good to see her, but he wasn't sure what would be welcome from him now. 

"Helen," he said. "I was gonna call you soon. I've ain't been back in Kentucky a week yet, and it's been...but why are you at the hospital?"

She shook her head. "I doubt you were gonna call, but I ain't gonna beat you up over that at a time like this."

Raylan frowned and said, "A time like this?"

"Well, I-" She paused, hesitating like maybe she'd made a mistake. "I assume you're here because Boyd Crowder's been shot."

"I- yeah. But-"

"Is he gonna pull through?"

Raylan opened his mouth and tried to form an answer, tried to say yes, or that he hoped so, but nothing would come, and he could see his own expression mirrored in hers as she opened her arms and stepped close to him. He went to her just like he had as a little boy, taking what comfort she could offer. 

He let her hold him for awhile, and when he finally pulled away he said, "If you knew about me and him, who else does?"

She shrugged. "I found out from your daddy one night a few years ago, drunk off his ass and talking about all the people who done him wrong."

"Yeah, 'cause it was totally about him," Raylan said. 

"Hush, Raylan. You know how he is."

"I can't believe you're with him," Raylan said. Probably that was an asshole thing to say, it wasn’t his business anyway, but it pissed him off. 

"I know, boy," she said. "And I ain't about to try to explain it while we're standing here, neither. Who's your friend?"

Raylan had forgotten she was there, in his surprise at seeing Helen. "Winona," he said, "this is my aunt Helen. Me and Boyd knew Winona in Utah, but she's back in Kentucky now too."

"It's good to meet you, ma'am," Winona said. 

Helen nodded at her and said, "Don't ma'am me, you call me Helen." She looked at Raylan and said, "You two come on back to the house. Arlo's at the VFW, so I ain't worried about him being home anytime soon."

"Alright," he said, glancing at Winona, "if that's okay?"

"Of course," she said. "Is it the house you grew up in, Raylan?"

He just scowled and nodded. "Let's get going."

Raylan drove them to the house, somewhat surprised at how easily he recalled the route. Helen pulled in beside them, and they went in through the kitchen. It looked almost exactly the way he remembered, and he wasn't sure whether that was comforting or not. 

Helen pulled out a jar of shine and some glasses as he and Winona sat down at the table. She looked at Winona, raised eyebrows and said, "You gonna join us, or would you like something else?"

"I'll give it a try," she said. "I haven't tasted moonshine since one of my uncles thought it would be funny to let me have some when I was eight years old."

Raylan snorted. "It's been twenty years, so I ain't sure how it's gonna go down for me either. But what the hell."

Helen raised an eyebrow at him and said, "You too fancy for home now, boy?"

"Oh, I'm fancy alright," he said, taking the glass she'd poured for him. He took a generous pull and grimaced while she laughed at him. "Helen, you said Arlo told you what the deal was, but..."

"It ain't common knowledge, if you're worried about that," she said flatly.

"I ain't," he said. "I just like to know what I'm walking into."

"Bo told him, a long time ago, I think, trying to keep him loyal. Blamed you, of course, but I'm sure even he knew better."

Raylan rolled his eyes. "Mutually assured destruction," he said.

"Something like," Helen replied. After a few quiet moments she asked, "Why'd you come back here?"

"Got transferred," he said shortly. "Boyd was in Harlan because of Bowman."

"Because of Ava, you mean," Helen growsed. "Stupid girl."

"Desperate, more like," Raylan said, staring her down. "Can't help thinking about what might have happened if my mother-"

"None of that," Helen cut him off. "Hate him all you like, but don't bring her into this." She tapped her fingers on the table. "Winona, honey, you look tired. I got a bed for you if you like."

"Well...I'm supposed to work tomorrow, but-"

"I'll drive you up in the morning. I'm sure Raylan wants to stay in Harlan awhile, until his man is in better shape."

Raylan smiled at her. "Helen, I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with you. I forgot there was anything here I cared about."

She waved him off and looked at Winona again. "You ain't gonna drink that, are you?"

"I don't think so," she said. "A bed sounds good, but what about Raylan's dad?"

"He'll be in late and won't be up before noon. Come on. Raylan can take the couch, unless you want to share."

"I don't mind," Winona said, but Raylan shook his head and said, "Couch is fine." Not that there was any chance of something happening, but the thought of that felt very wrong.

She followed Helen upstairs, and Raylan took her glass of shine out to the front steps. He was sipping at it when Helen stepped outside. She lit a cigarette before sitting down next to him. 

"You'll be okay, Raylan," she said after a minute or so.

"If he lives. When he recovers and we can get the fuck out of here again. Then I'll be okay." He downed the rest of the glass.

She shook her head at him. "I'm surprised at you, Raylan. I never thought you'd turn out this way."

"A homo?" Raylan asked, but not with any edge to his voice. 

"Don't be stupid," she said. "That don't surprise me at all. I meant, you depending so much on someone else. Staying with him for as long as you have."

"You didn't think anyone would put up with me that long, did you?"

"Thought you'd drive them away on purpose."

Raylan nodded, then realized exactly what she'd said. "Why didn't it surprise you about the other thing?"

"You had such a crush on Han Solo after your mama and I took you to see Star Wars, I had to tell you to stop talking about him because your daddy wouldn't like it," she laughed.

Raylan blushed and put his face in his hand. "Jesus," he muttered, but then he laughed too. "I liked Princess Leia too."

"Never could do things the simple way," she said, then patted his hand. 

"I'm gonna go talk to Arlo," Raylan said, having made the decision just a second earlier. 

Helen whipped her head around at him. "Have you lost your damn mind? What earthly reason could you possibly have for doing that?" 

"He did it," Raylan replied. "Boyd did. He had an opportunity to be honest with his daddy and he did that. And he actually gave a shit about Bo's opinion of him, but he was still that brave. Anyway, what have I got to lose? So he calls me a few names - he'd do that much anyway. If it wasn't this, it would be something else, you know that."

"If it was something else, you mightn't be in such a hurry to subject yourself to it."

"I'll be alright." He stood up and handed her his empty glass. "Don't wait up."

She pressed her lips together and looked at him sadly, but didn't say anything. Raylan headed off to the VFW.

When he walked into the hall, the few sad old men at the sad old bar looked up and stared. All but one, and Raylan had to assume he'd seen him out the corner of his eye. Raylan had good peripheral vision too; maybe he'd inherited it. 

He walked over and sat one barstool away from Arlo Givens. The bartender came over and said, "Evening. Haven't seen you around, so I have to let you know, this is a members only club for veterans. I can’t serve you otherwise, this ain't a bar."

"I'm his guest," he said, motioning at Arlo with his chin. "That's okay, right?" He smiled politely at the man, who looked for confirmation from Arlo. 

"Sure," Arlo said, still staring into his drink. "My guest. Bring him one on me. What're you drinking these days, strawberry daiquiris?"

Raylan smiled thinly. "I'll take a Wild Turkey, rocks," he told the bartender. He gave Arlo a sidelong glance. "Is that the best you could come up with? Really?" 

"I don't have to come up with nothing," Arlo snarled. "Just the fact of what you are is enough of a joke on its own." He took a sip of bourbon, then finally looked over at Raylan. "Why in hell did you come back here? Nobody wants you around. Nothing but an embarrassment."

"You think I wanted to come back to this shithole? You think I chose this? I got transferred. Just in time for the shit to hit the fucking fan around here."

"You got transferred 'cause you lost your damn temper," Arlo said, with obvious relish. "Killed a man over shrimp cocktail." He cackled and rattled the ice cubes in his glass. "We get the news, son."

Raylan drank and tried to remember why he'd decided he had to come here. He could leave, but he didn't want Arlo to think he'd driven him off. For Boyd, that's what it was. 

"I came down here to see you, Arlo, because I thought I should catch you up on what I've been doing the last twenty years. I know you don't give a shit, but I'm gonna do it anyway."

"You mean besides sucking Boyd Crowder's cock?"

Raylan grinned in a slightly manic way and leaned over to Arlo. "I do, in fact, do a fair amount of that, but that don't take up more than, say, an hour a week, tops. Add in all the other shit we do in bed - and I'mma tell you, we do things I know you ain't never even heard of - and that's maybe a few, four or five hours a week. So in addition to all the gay sex, there are actually a lot of other things I do with my time."

"You disgust me," Arlo said.

"The feeling is mutual," Raylan replied. He gestured for another drink and knocked it back as soon as he got it, then ordered another. He looked at Arlo. "I know you don't care about this either, but Boyd is lying in a hospital bed right now, shot in the chest because he was protecting Ava from Bo's thugs. People like you, you think you know everything about what it means to be a man. You don't know shit."

"I hope he dies in there," Arlo said, jutting his chin at Raylan, defying him to beat the shit out of him, which Raylan ached to do. 

He stood up, fists clenched at his sides. "Like I said, you don't know how to be a man. I don't hurt people weaker than me, like old, broke down fucking drunks. I ain't you." He picked up his glass and drained it, threw a twenty on the bar and walked out. What a useless exercise. He was already pissed at himself for bothering to try.

He drove back to the house, faster than he probably should have after what he'd had to drink that evening. He glanced at the couch, on which Helen had left a pillow and some bedding, but went upstairs instead. He wanted to be close to someone. He needed someone to be nice to him. 

He tried to be quiet, but Winona turned over and lifted her head when he came in. "Raylan? You okay" she asked.

"Not really," he said. "Would it be okay if I stayed in here?"

"Yeah, honey, come on," she said softly. 

He pulled off his shirt, shoes and socks, and got into bed with his jeans and an undershirt on. He pushed close and buried his face in her hair as she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry," he said, "I know this whole night is a lot to ask of someone I haven't seen in more than a decade."

"Shh, it's fine. It's okay, Raylan," she soothed. He was no longer able to hold back the tears that had been threatening ever since he'd gotten the call from Ava. She ran fingers through his hair and held onto him, and to his dismay, after awhile he started to get a hard on. 

He pushed back a bit and turned over. "Maybe I should go back to the couch," he said. "I ain't sure I should be here."

"You haven't done anything, Raylan. It's alright. Just go to sleep." She wrapped her arm around him, and he closed his eyes. He still thought it would be better to go downstairs, but it was too warm under the covers, too comfortable with her tucked up against him, so he gave in and let sleep take him.


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boyd wakes up.

Raylan woke up with a pounding head when the sky was just beginning to turn from black to dark blue. His mouth tasted like a dog's asshole and his mind was racing. He pulled Winona's arm off and slid out of bed feeling sick, trying to figure out if he'd lost any time the night before. 

He went to the bathroom and drank some water too quickly, then had to sit on the side of the tub until a wave of nausea passed. He remembered coming upstairs, getting into bed with her. He remembered...her holding him, and his involuntary reaction. He was pretty sure he just went to sleep after that. Christ, what an asshole he was. He should have just sucked it up and stayed on the goddamn couch.

He found some aspirin in the cabinet and swallowed three, then went quietly down the stairs to the living room. He managed to drift into a broken, uneasy sleep for another hour or so, until the sun was up and shining straight in through the windows onto his face. 

He threw an arm over his eyes and thought about what he needed to do. He should have called Art the night before, but he hadn't, so that was first thing. And Ava, he badly needed to talk to her, find out what he hell went down at her place, but that might take awhile and he needed to go to the hospital first. 

The thought of trying to get them to let him in to see Boyd again was exhausting. When this was over, they needed to get a power of attorney thing set up, for god's sake. He couldn't believe they'd been so irresponsible about it for so long. 

He heard someone come down the steps, and he thought it was Helen. He listened to her moving around the kitchen, and only when he smelled bacon frying did he rouse himself and go in to say good morning. 

"You get satisfaction down at the VFW last night?" she asked, dry as a bone.

"Not as such," he replied, pulling a coffee mug from the cabinet. He poured himself a cup and sat down. "But I did what I had to do."

"You're going over the hospital first thing, I guess."

Raylan nodded and said, "I gotta call my boss, and maybe I'll call and see if Ava can meet me there."

Winona came into the room looking tired and rumpled. "Morning," she said. She got herself some coffee, sat down and said. "Raylan, I can call out of work today and stick around here if you want. It's really no problem."

"Thanks, but no need. I'm gonna be working."

She looked a little concerned at that and said, "Will Art let you work on this? Seems like a conflict of interest."

"I ain't a lawyer, Winona. And I don't actually give a damn if he lets me or not. There's nothing could keep me off this. I'm the best person to do it anyway, I know these people."

"Whatever you say," she said. "If Boyd wakes up today, will you please call me?"

"'Course," he answered, and glanced over at Helen. What he needed to say, he didn't want her to hear.

They ate eggs and bacon, and had another cup of coffee each. It seemed not one of the three of them was a morning person, so they mostly sat in silence. When Helen was finished eating, she took her cup out to the front porch for a cigarette. 

"Listen," Raylan said, "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have gone up there last night. I never meant for- I was irresponsible."

"But nothing happened," she said, frowning in confusion. "I said you could sleep in there because I knew nothing would."

"I feel like I crossed a line, though, and I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Jesus, are you always like this or is it just because Boyd's hurt? You were sad and drunk and you needed a little kindness. That's what I gave you, and nothing else. It seems to me like that's something he'd want for you."

"Don't mean I feel like I deserve it," he said. "I went to see my father last night. Had several drinks."

"I see," she said, nodding. "Was it bad?"

"Bad as it always was," Raylan replied, then sighed. "I gotta call Art."

"Alright. I should get going anyway." She got up and rinsed her cup. "Call me, Raylan, I mean it."

He nodded. "Alright. Thanks for everything."

He called Art's cell as he walked upstairs to retrieve his shoes and shirt. Art answered almost immediately, saying, "Raylan, what's going on?"

"I'm in Harlan," he began, thinking how that was almost never going to portend good news. "Yesterday evening some men went over to Ava Crowder's home, where Boyd was staying, presumably to take her out. Boyd was shot in the course of defending her. I don't know nothing else yet, except Boyd's at Harlan Regional, in stable condition, but still unconscious."

He felt almost out of breath after all that. There was a long pause on the other end before Art said, "Jesus Christ, Raylan. You should have called me yesterday."

"I know. I wasn't exactly in my right mind."

"Where are you now?" Art asked.

"My...my aunt's house," he answered. He didn't want to get into it with Art just then. "I'm heading out in a few minutes." 

"I'm coming down there, and son, you go to that hospital and you stay there. Don't even think about involving yourself in this investigation."

"I'll see you there," Raylan said, then hung up quickly. 

He called Ava as he was walking out to the car, but she still didn't answer. He pulled out of the yard, spraying dirt, and sped all the way to the hospital. 

The Sheriff, who Raylan recognized as one Hunter Mosely, was on the ward already, arguing with the floor nurse, and older woman than the one from the night before, in her mid-fifties, he thought. 

"If he's conscious, I need to be able to speak with him. He may have information regarding the-" Mosely stopped speaking abruptly, staring as Raylan walked up. 

Raylan didn't give a shit about Hunter Mosely - he hadn't liked him when they played baseball together in high school, and he didn't imagine that was about to change now - but he'd said, "If he's conscious." He ignored the Sheriff, pulled out his badge and asked, "Is he awake?"

She said yes, and started to explain further, but was interrupted by Mosely. "Excuse me," he said, "is that a Marshal's star?"

"It is," Raylan said, barely glancing at him. "I need to see him right away," he said to the nurse.

She started to reply - he assumed, to tell him it was 'family only' - but Mosely got in his face and said, "This is my investigation, not a Marshal concern, unless Crowder's a fugitive?" Mosely paused, then said in an incredulous voice, "Raylan Givens?"

"Yeah, Mosely. I'm a Deputy U.S. Marshal now, and... yeah. Boyd Crowder is my responsibility. You'll have plenty of time for questions later. I need to speak with him first."

"Why don't that surprise me," Mosely started, "damn Crowders, all the s-" 

"I'm afraid neither one of you can get in to see him just yet," the nurse cut in. "Mr. Crowder only regained consciousness in the last hour, and he's on very strong pain medication. He can't possibly answer any questions right now. His doctors were very clear in their instructions, he is not to be disturbed."

Raylan gritted his teeth. He was not about to be kept from Boyd's room, but he didn't want to get into it with the nurse while Mosely was there. He didn't care what the Sheriff knew about him and Boyd, but he hated the idea of having to beg or cajole her into it, in front of that asshole. 

He was still trying to figure out a play when Ava came running up, breathless and on the verge of tears. She stopped just short of being in his space, then hesitated until he reached for her hand. She hugged him, hard, then stepped back. 

"Raylan, I'm so sorry, this is all my-"

"Hush, woman," he growled. "Don't say stupid shit like that. Anyway, Boyd's gonna be fine. He's conscious now."

"Oh, thank God!" she whispered. "Can I see him?"

"I'm sorry miss," the nurse said, "as I was telling these men, Mr. Crowder is not allowed visitors right now. He needs rest."

"He _needs_ to see Raylan," Ava shot back, crossing her arms, looking every bit the Harlan woman she was.

"He really does," Raylan said. "I'm going in."

The nurse stepped quickly in front of Boyd's door. "You can't."

"Ma'am," Raylan said, "I cannot stress enough, how important-" 

A bell chimed from the nurse's station, and she looked over at the nurse's station. "That's him calling. I'm going to check on him and you all stay out here," she said sternly. 

She went into the room and closed the door, and Raylan managed to catch a glimpse of Boyd's face. It was all he could do not to barge in, but he waited. 

She came out moments later and said, "Marshal Givens, he's insisting on speaking to you. He's...he's pretty animated about it, but he won't let me give him anything, and says he's going to, 'climb outta this goddamn bed and walk out of the hospital with his ass hanging out of his gown' if I don't let you in right away." She laughed wearily and added, "I think I believed him. I'll give you a few minutes, but please don't wear him out too much."

Ava giggled, and Mosely said, "Well, I never heard of a fugitive being so excited to see a Marshal. He can't be a witness, 'cause here he is back home under his own name. What the hell?"

Raylan was already on his way through the door, and he barely heard Ava giggle again and say, "Sheriff, you would die if you knew. You would just _die._ "

Boyd was looking up from his pillow with a slightly aggravated expression on his face. "Heard you jawing out in the hall with that asshole Mosely. Thought you'd never get in here."

Raylan couldn't begin to answer him. He stared at him for a second, then let out a breath in a sort of broken moan and lowered his face into Boyd's neck, his hand fisted in Boyd's hair. Hot, silent tears flowed from his eyes, wetting Boyd's skin and soaking the pillow. 

"Come on, baby. I'm alright, come on."

"Shut up, Boyd," Raylan mumbled, his voice weak and foreign to his own ears. "Just shut up. You almost died, don't tell me to 'come on.'"

"'Kay," Boyd whispered back. "Sorry."

"I said hush," Raylan said. He finally pulled back, sniffing hard and wiping his face on his sleeve. He cupped Boyd's cheek and leaned back down to kiss him, very softly, on the lips. "I'm so glad," he murmured. 

Boyd's eyes were closed, and Raylan kissed him some more, all over his face, until he smiled and snorted softly. "Much as I enjoy the adoration, we only got a few minutes and I think we should talk."

Raylan straightened up reluctantly. "About what?"

"About why I'm in this hospital bed, for one thing."

Raylan reached down and stroked his hair again. "It's all my fault. Soon as you're better, we leave Kentucky. If I can't get another transfer, I'll get a different job. We can move back to Miami, if you want, or somewhere else-"

"What are you talking about, Raylan?" Boyd was frowning at him now, concerned. "You can't really think that's what I meant." 

"But it _is_ , it is my fault. We should never have come here. I want to take you back to our home. It hasn't sold yet, we could just..." He trailed off because Boyd looked like he was going to cry. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean-"

"God, will you stop? Listen, Raylan, I know you pretty well, right?"

"You're the only one who does."

"So I knew," Boyd said, reaching for his hand, "I knew you'd want to take this whole weight on yourself. But you can't. I won't let you, because it belongs to both of us, and to Ava, and my fucking father and who the hell knows who else. Maybe God. Shit just happens, Raylan. We make the best choices we can, and sometimes they turn out bad. But I still wouldn't change it. You think, if I could, I'd do different so it ended up that Ava was alone last night?"

Raylan sighed and shook his head, smiling slightly. "You were a hero."

"No, I wasn't," Boyd replied. "She's the one chased them out with her shotgun after I was down. Got a piece of one of them too."

Raylan's eyebrows shot up. "So how'd you get shot?"

"I was providing a distraction," he said. "Bowman had a nine stashed in the china closet, so I had that. One of them drew on me, and that fucker was fast, baby. 'Course, he wouldn't have had nothing on you, but he had me beat by a mile. I might be a bit rusty."

"Christ," Raylan growled. He rubbed a hand over his face and willed himself to stay calm. "I didn't even think...it's been so long for you. I never should have left you there alone to face that."

"I get to the range, Raylan. I can shoot."

"I know you can, but it's different in a situation like that. As you know."

Boyd rolled his eyes and said, "I don't have the energy to be indignant just now, darlin', so I'll just save that for later. And I think we're running out of time, so give me another kiss, huh?"

Raylan didn't bother to answer him out loud, just leaned in to kiss him some more until the nurse came walking in briskly. 

"I see you're busy questioning him, Marshal," she said, pursing her lips. 

Raylan straightened up and sighed. "So who was it, anyway? Johnny again?"

Boyd shook his head. "No one I recognized, but that don't mean much. Ava didn't seem to know them either, but you should check with her."

"Mr. Givens, you need to leave now," the nurse said. "I need to take his vitals."

"I saw Arlo last night," Raylan said to Boyd, pretending she hadn't spoken. "I wanted to have the fun of breaking the news, but sadly Bo spoiled it for me way back when."

"Aw, too bad," Boyd said, chuckling slightly and wincing. "Hey, you get to have your drink with Miss Winona?"

Raylan rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. We were drinking when Ava called to tell me. She drove me down here, stayed over at Helen and Arlo's last night."

"What's wrong?" Boyd said, frowning. "You look guilty as shit. You didn't-"

"No! Fuck no, are you serious?" He looked down at Boyd in dismay. It was horrible that he'd had to think that even for a second. "I- I slept in the bed with her, is all. I felt so shitty, baby, after what happened to you - I came and saw you last night - and then seeing Arlo, and I just didn't want to be by myself."

"So?" Boyd smiled. "I don't care about that, I trust you."

Raylan glanced at the nurse, who was waiting and not even pretending not to listen. "You entertained?" he asked her. "You waiting with baited breath to find out if I cheated on my boyfriend?"

She snorted and walked a little further away, towards the door, and Raylan leaned in close. "I didn't do anything, but she hugged me and I sort of got, uh, aroused. I felt like an asshole. And I should have left right then, but I didn't."

"Well, thanks for the full disclosure, honey. You didn't do anything wrong, which you very well know. I ain't mad. Is she mad?"

"No," he admitted. 

"Then shut up." A small smile took the edge off the words. "Ain't got the energy for all that either." 

Raylan kissed him again. "I should go. Mosely's waiting out there, presumably being brought up to speed by Ava. He'll want a chance to mock me before I leave. I'll be back later on and bring you stuff."

"Earbuds," Boyd said. "And a chocolate bar. And I want you to stay with me for a long time when you come back tonight. We can watch Jeopardy."

Raylan had a sudden lump in his throat, and he wasn't even sure why. He told Boyd, "Anything you want. I'll sleep here if they'll let me." He kissed him one more time and said goodbye. 

"Bye," Boyd replied. "Don't get yourself hurt nosing around. I'll be fucking pissed."

Raylan squeezed his hand. "I'll be careful. But I gotta do this, Boyd, you get that, right?"

"Whatchu think, son? I don't know you? You and me, baby, we're the same. I just worry 'cause I love you."

"Love you too. See you later on."

He walked out, past the huffing, impatient nurse, to the hallway where Ava was sitting on a bench with Hunter Mosely. Mosely turned towards him with a sneering grin, and Raylan sighed. 

He hadn't even gotten halfway to them when Mosely said, "So, you and Crowder are fucking? Goddamn, I bet Bo shit a brick."

Raylan waited until he'd reached the bench and sat down before saying, with a patience he did not feel, "We're not 'fucking.' We've been in a relationship since 1994. I love him, he loves me, and I don't care at all what kind of shits Bo Crowder takes."

"Jesus, since 1994 and you ain't even fucking? Playing hard to get, Givens?"

Raylan laughed in spite of himself. "Not hardly." He looked at Mosely, who on second glance maybe wasn't so much sneering as he was just amused. He had to stop being so defensive. He'd been that way ever since being back in Kentucky, and it was fucking exhausting. "What do you need from me, Hunter? I can't offer you any information you can't get from Ava, or Boyd eventually when they let you talk to him."

"I need to know you ain't gonna be fucking around in this investigation. It's just gonna complicate things, you start poking your nose into it."

Raylan stared at him. "Really? You're gonna ask me that? What would you do?"

"Why, I'd interfere and probably screw everything up for the investigating officers. Obviously. And yet, I'm an optimist, Givens. I'm asking you to stay out of it."

"I don't know what there really is to investigate anyhow, seeing as we all know it was Bo sent those men to her house for retribution. It's possible they were directed to kill Boyd too, for all I know. As you so insightfully pointed out might be the case, the big man ain't exactly thrilled with having a queer son." 

Raylan almost mentioned the thing about the rocket launchers, but figured he'd hold that one back for the time being. 

"If it's so simple," Mosely said, "then you don't need to be involved. Even a hick Sheriff like me should be able to handle it." He stood up. "I'll be back in a few hours and I'm going to talk to him. Don't try to keep me from it," he warned. He started to walk away, then turned back. "Out of curiosity, were you and him already...you know...back in school?"

Raylan laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "No," he said, "and in case you were worried, I wasn't looking at your ass in the showers, neither."

Mosely scowled at him, then turned and walked away. Ava nudged Raylan in the side. "I think he's hurt, Raylan. You shoulda told him he had a nice ass."

"I don't like to lie to the police." She laughed lightly, and he smiled at her. "Listen, Ava, I need you to tell me if you recognized either of those guys, or have any idea who they are."

He could tell she didn't want to say. Maybe she was scared, maybe she just didn't like talking to the law, but he could see she was holding something. He looked pointedly at the door to Boyd's room, then back at her and she sighed miserably. 

"One of them, I have no idea. Never seen him in my life. But the other one, I seen him a couple times. Him and Bowman mighta been friends, as much as Bowman ever made friends. He was passed out on the couch one morning after they was out drinking. Name was Hurley, or maybe Terley, I ain't sure, and Bowman told me to make him some eggs before he had to drive back to Jackson. He was skinny, had a mean, ratty face. That's all I know, Raylan, I swear."

"You tell all this to Mosely?"

"Hell no, I wasn't talking to him at all. You know what he said? He said it don't matter if Boyd's a fag, or how long he's been away from here, Crowders are all the same and they don't change. He says you're fooling yourself, but he ain't surprised you got taken in, 'cause you never were too bright anyhow."

Raylan nodded, and smiled thinly. He was almost glad to hear it, because now he didn't have to feel bad about involving himself in the investigation. "What an asshole," he said.

"Yup," Ava replied. "Always was, always will be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one - thanks for hanging in! The next chapter is almost ready to go, so it shouldn't be a super long time.


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan is on the case.

Raylan left her there, waiting to see Boyd, and drove up towards Jackson. It didn't escape his notice that Jackson was directly on the route to Little Sandy, and it was early still. 

There wasn't any practical reason to go see Bo Crowder, and he had to admit to himself that his sole motivation was to rub his relationship with the man's eldest son right in his fat, hillbilly face. He wanted to hurt him, and right then that was the only way he had to do it. And it would probably be more painful for him than a beat down anyhow, for a man like that.

Raylan got to Jackson and found the police station in town. He flashed his star, and it didn't take long for the officer on duty to figure out that he was looking for a man named Dell Worley. They gave him a home address, but advised him to first check out a seedy bar on the edge of town, which was where the man spent most of his days. . 

The bar was dark in the middle of the day, and smelled like cigarettes and stale beer, with a definite undertone of piss. The bartender was talking to a sad-looking middle-aged woman at the far end of the bar, and the only other patron was a man sitting at a table in the corner. Raylan looked him over as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. Skinny, rat-faced, and already half in the bag at just past noon. Raylan walked over and sat down. 

The bartender called out to him, “We ain’t got no table service, buddy, you want a drink you gotta order at the bar.”

“I’m good for now,” Raylan said, pulling his jacket back to show his star, and just then Worley got up and started for the door. Raylan caught his arm and shoved him back into his chair. 

“Hey there, Dell.”  
“Who the fuck are you?” Worley spat. 

“I’m a friend of Ava Crowder,” Raylan said, “and also a Deputy US Marshal. I believe you and I have some things to talk about.”

Raylan had been expecting much more push-back from Worley, but it hardly took any effort for him to sell out his accomplice. He balked at rolling over on Bo, of course, but Raylan figured it was only a matter of time, once he picked up the other guy. Meanwhile, he had some other business to attend to. 

He cuffed Worley and shoved him into the back of the car, saying, “We’re gonna go pay a visit to your boss.” He thought Worley might be at least a little scared of the wolfish grin on his face, because he shut up, at least for a little while. 

When he reached the prison, he cuffed Worley to the door handle - against all kinds of regulations - and told him he wouldn’t be long. Worley shouted at him about his civil rights a little bit, but once he shut the door and walked away, Raylan couldn’t hear him anymore. He couldn’t have cared less, anyway.

Raylan checked his gun, showed his ID and signed in at the desk. "What's your business, Marshal?" the guard asked. "He'll want to know, if he's gonna see you without his lawyer present."

"Tell him it's about his son. I have some bad news for him. Be sure you tell him my name." He was fairly sure Bo wouldn't pass up a chance to tell Raylan exactly what he thought of him.

Raylan waited at one of the phones, a good twenty minutes before Bo deigned to show up. He didn't mind; he'd expected it. It was one of the few plays Bo had at his disposal, so Raylan could let him have that. He felt almost magnanimous, and he smiled real wide at Bo as he sat down. He picked up the phone and waited some more. 

After an age, Bo picked up the receiver on his end and sat silently. Raylan leaned forward onto his elbows, like they were having a nice chat, and said, "Well, hey, Bo. Been a long goddamn time, how the heck are you?"

"You said you had some bad news. I assumed you were gonna tell me the boy's dead, but with that shit-eating grin on your face I'm thinking that ain't it. Unless your grief drove you insane, like some old miner's widow in a story."

"I think I know that one," Raylan said, still grinning. "My mama used to tell it."

"Yours and everyone else's, Givens. What do you want?"

"Wanted to tell you Boyd's gonna be fine. Great news for me, but seeing as how all he means to you is shame, you may feel different." Raylan honestly couldn't tell what Bo's reaction was to the news. It was possibly relief, but he couldn't swear to it. 

"That it? I'll be going." He started to put the phone down, but when Raylan held up a hand, he put it back to his ear, scowling through the glass.

"No, that ain't quite it," Raylan said. "I also wanted to let you know, you're gonna rot in jail for this, you ain't ever getting out, I'm gonna make sure of it. I got your boy Worley out in the car, and he don't really strike me as the upstanding kind. If you do, somehow, get out, I'll fucking kill you myself, you sorry piece of shit. And when Boyd's well enough, I'm taking him to fucking Massachusetts to get married, and I'm sending the guards the announcement. I'll be sure to spell your name right."

Bo's eyes had shut about halfway through the speech, but he'd listened to the whole thing. Raylan hung up gently. He'd done what he'd come here to do. 

Raylan knew he wasn't going to get married in Massachusetts. There would be no point. It still wouldn't get him into a hospital room in Kentucky, or Florida, or any other place they might move. Still, he thought maybe he'd take out an announcement anyway, just to fuck with Bo.

Worley started shouting and kicking at the door as soon as Raylan was in sight of the car. He kept it up a good while, but Raylan didn't try to stop him. All he cared about was getting him back to Harlan as quickly as possible. He was already cutting it close to the time he'd promised Boyd, and he still had to drop this asshole off and deal with whatever hoops they decided to make him jump through. 

"I gotta piss, man," Worley said, after he'd finally fallen silent for a few minutes. 

"That's too bad. I'll try not to run over too many potholes."

"You know was in that bar drinking before you grabbed me up. My bladder's gonna fucking bust if I don't piss. I'm just gonna do it right here in your back seat if you don't stop. I ain't joking."

"Yeah," Raylan sighed. "Alright." He pulled over, opened the back door, and let Worley out. 

Worley was indignant. "You ain't gonna take my cuffs off?" 

"You're cuffed in front," Raylan said. "You'll manage."

"Man, I can't even get my zipper down. How'm I supposed to do this?"

"I have no idea," Raylan said, "but don't expect me to hold your pecker for you."

"What I hear, you might not mind so much," Worley said, shooting him a sidelong glance. "You're him, ain't you? The Marshal Bowman's brother's shacked up with?"

Raylan's eyebrows rose. It was kind of amazing, with all the abuse Worley had been hurling at him all that time, he hadn't brought it up before that moment. 

"I am," Raylan said, "but I'm gonna take a pass nonetheless. Come on, Worley, just get it done."

Worley twisted his hands around to try to get at his fly, lost his balance and fell over. He looked pitifully around at Raylan. "Have a heart, man."

Raylan did not like this situation at all, but he didn't see what choice he really had. He wasn't about to deal with cleaning some redneck's piss out of the back of the Town Car. 

He walked over to help Worley up, then uncuffed him. Worley thanked him profusely, sighed as he started to piss, then said, "Bowman could not fuckin' stand that about his brother. Thought it was just about the worst thing in the world. Me personally, I don't give a shit. I figure, I watch dyke porn sometimes, and that don't make me sick or nothing, so if I turn around and say there's something wrong with the other way, that'd make me a hypocrite, right? Not that I want to see it, but I don't have a problem with it, per se, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"You're quite the progressive, Worley," Raylan deadpanned. "You done?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said. Raylan heard him zip up and walked over with the cuffs. Worley turned, lightning fast, and hit Raylan in the head, hard, with what felt like a rock. 

Raylan stumbled back and fell, and Worley took off running. Raylan tried to get up, then landed back on his ass again. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the world spinning around him. After a minute or so, he opened them and struggled to his knees. For a few seconds he thought he'd be okay, until he tried to stand. He threw up violently, then rolled to his side and closed his eyes. 

When he opened them again, some undetermined amount of time later, his first thought was that he should call Boyd to come and get him, because Art was going to be pissed. Then he remembered, and the pounding in his head intensified. 

Raylan sat up and leaned against the car until he was pretty sure he could manage to stand, then stood shakily and got into the car. He was pretty sure he shouldn't be driving, but he did anyway. He went slow and made it back to Harlan well after dark. 

He went straight to the hospital and up to Boyd's floor. Cassie was on duty again, and she did a double take when she saw him coming. 

"Raylan, what on earth happened to you?" She was coming toward him, but he had to get around her. He needed to see Boyd. 

She stepped in front of him and held up her hands, reaching for his shoulders. He tried to sidestep her, stumbled, and would have fallen if she hadn't grabbed him. 

"You're bleeding," she said softly. "Or, you were. You need to sit down." She pulled at his arm, keeping one of hers across his back. 

"No, I need to see Boyd." 

Cassie huffed and said, a little more sharply, "You're gonna scare the shit out of him if you go in there looking like that. You need to get that tended to, and get checked out for a concussion." She paused and sighed. "But for right now just let me clean it up and you can go say hi for a few minutes."

Some part of his brain was dimly aware that she was making sense, but Raylan really, really didn't want to wait. He pulled his arm away and said, "A little blood ain't gonna scare Boyd Crowder, woman, who do you think you're talking to?" 

The door to Boyd's room opened then and Art Mullen stepped out. Raylan's stomach sank. 

"Marshal, just what in hell do you think you're doing, shouting like that in a hospital? And Christ almighty, what did you do to your head, son?"

In lieu of answering, Raylan turned indignantly to the nurse and said, "I thought it was 'family only.'"

She shrugged innocently and said, "He told me he was Boyd's daddy." She held Raylan's glare with a sweet smile for a few seconds before he rolled his eyes and she laughed. 

"Raylan, sit down and let her clean up your head," Art commanded. Raylan obeyed, only because he didn't see an alternative. 

"Art, could you tell Boyd I'll be in as soon as I can?" Art nodded and went into the room.

Cassie got a metal pan of warm water, some gauze and iodine and proceeded to dab at him endlessly. 

"Were you in a car accident?" she asked. 

"No," Raylan replied shortly. He felt a little bad when she let out a little sigh. She was only being kind, he realized. 

"Well, it doesn't look like you'll need stitches," she said. "But there's gonna be a hell of a bruise here." She put two fingers gently against his temple. He looked up at her.

"You're still real pretty, you know that? I always thought you were too good for Johnny Crowder."

She blushed and said, "Well, I guess you should have asked me out first, Raylan Givens."

"Can I go see Boyd now, please?"

She rolled her eyes. "Go on. Only a little while, now."

Art left when Raylan came in, but not before fixing him with a stern and highly meaningful look. Raylan would care later, but at that moment he didn't at all. 

"Boyd, it's been the weirdest fuckin' day," he said, walking over quickly and pressing his mouth to the top of Boyd's head. "I'm so glad to see you."

Boyd pulled at his arm until Raylan looked at him, and then he sucked in a little hiss of air and said, "Honey, what happened to your head? That looks bad."

"I'll be fine," he said. "But I did fuck up pretty bad. Art's gonna be pissed, but that ain't half of how pissed I am at myself."

Raylan pulled the chair up to the bed and started talking. He went through the whole thing. He'd been a little worried that Boyd would be pissed at him for going up to Little Sandy, but all he said was, "I ain't getting married just to say we did it," and Raylan answered with, "Hush, I know that." 

When he got to the part about Worley escaping, his stomach gave a nauseating lurch. He told it all anyway - his penance for being a dumbass - and after he finished, Boyd patted him on the hand and said, "Yep, you sure fucked up, alright. Art's definitely gonna be pissed."

Raylan put his head down on the bed, against Boyd's hip. Boyd stroked his hair for a minute and said, "Raylan, I get why, and I can't fault you, but could you please not do any more of this cowboy shit? You work with people could help you."

"Art ordered me off it. You can't honestly expect me to sit on my hands and do nothing to find the assholes who hurt you? They almost killed you. Jesus Christ, Boyd what would I-"

"Alright," Boyd said, squeezing his hand. "I get it. I love you too." He sighed. "You gotta get your head checked. You look like you could fall asleep right now, and I don't think that's a real good idea."

Raylan groaned and lifted his head slowly. "Just wanna stay in here with you. I'm sorry I missed Jeopardy."

Boyd laughed weakly. "You are such an idiot, Raylan, I swear."

"Yep," Raylan said, getting to his feet. He felt sluggish and heavy. "But you're the one who loves me, so what does that say about you?"

He kissed Boyd on the forehead and said goodbye, then headed out to face the music. Art was leaning up against the nurses' station, arms crossed, chatting with Cassie. 

"Hey," Raylan said. 

"Cassie here called a doctor friend of hers for a favor, and he's gonna be up to look at your head in a few minutes. Then you and me are gonna talk."

"Got it," Raylan said wearily. He just wanted to go crawl into Boyd's bed. 

Cassie took him into an empty room and took his vitals. The doctor came in a few minutes later and barely glanced at the head wound, asked him a few questions, checked his reflexes and shined a flashlight into his eyes. 

"What the hell happened to you, anyway?" the doctor asked.

"Took a rock to the head," Raylan said, laughing a little despite himself. "Occupational hazard."

"Well, you don't appear to have a concussion, but I can't rule it out. Your best course of action is Tylenol and a good night's sleep. Cassie said a close friend of yours is in here with a gunshot wound to the chest?"

"My boyfriend, yeah," Raylan said. 

"Ah. Alright, well, I could probably pull a few strings and get an extra bed rolled in there. We're very supportive of law enforcement here." The doctor gave him a brief smile and clapped him on the arm. 

"Thanks, doc," Raylan said. "Hey, did Cassie pick you to ask because you're gay?" He was pretty sure he was right, but hopefully the guy wouldn't be too insulted if he'd guessed wrong. 

"Yeah, probably," he laughed. "She says she knew you guys from growing up around here?" Raylan nodded, and the doctor said, with obvious horror, "You're not moving back here?"

"To Harlan?" Raylan laughed. "Fuck no. We didn't even want to move back to the state, but I got transferred. I hope to remedy that situation at the nearest possible moment."

"Well, good luck."

Cassie rolled her eyes when he asked about the bed, but she eventually got one for him. Boyd out cold when the orderly rolled it in, and Raylan fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


End file.
